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REMINISCENCES 



IN THE LIFE OF 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND, 



AS WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. 



Edited by J. M. DIXON, Blind Editor, 

IN THE YEAR A. D. 1874. 



COPYRIGHT SECURED. 



11 1 



DES MOINES, IOWA: 

CARTER, HUSSEY & CURL, PRINTERS. 
1874. 



l 0V 



3X^4- <* 



ERRATA, 

Page 59, fourth line, read " Wabashtown," instead of "Washing- 
ton." 

Page 73, fourth line, for " Capt. Bandleman," read "Randleman." 
Page 22, twenty-sixth line, for "Epaulettes," read " Epaulets." 
Page 37, second line, read "jailor" for "tailor." 



INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 

By J. M. DIXON, Blind Editor. 



We can hardly realize the fact that considerably more than half 
a century has passed away since the war of 1812. The actors in 
that important contest have, with but few exceptions, gone to their 
graves, leaving the rich legacy of their memory to posterity. The 
whitened locks of survivors, and their trembling limbs, indicate that 
their useful and eventful lives are drawing to a close. If the personal 
experiences of each one of these surviving soldiers were to be pub- 
lished to the world, taking the place of the false and corrupting lit- 
erature of the times, the interest of truth, as well as of society, would 
be incalculably promoted. We believe that biographical literature, 
reaching, as it does, the personal motives and acts, has done more to 
stimulate young men to imitate high and noble examples, than any 
other species of composition. 

This unpretending book was written, as the title-page indicates, 
by Elder T. C. Townsend, who for nearly fifty years has been an 
accredited and acceptable minister of the Baptist Church, confining 
his labors for the most part to Indiana and Iowa. For more than 
three-quarters of a century he has been an actor in life's drama, 
identified with the early struggles of his country for nationality and 
renown, and intimately associated with the upward and onward 
career of the Church, from its comparative infancy in the West to 
its present maturity and power. 

While the book is anti-biographical in character, it recites many 
incidents of interest which came under the observation of the au- 
thor. These incidents, which add much to the merit of the work, 



IV INTRODUCTION — BY THE EDITOR. 

are described in a straight-forward, graphic manner, which reminds 
you of the honest simplicity of Dr. Franklin's style. The vein of 
genial humor which the reader will often perceive in these pages, 
and which is purely characteristic of the author, will certainly be 
appreciated. Taking into consideration the fact that Elder Town- 
send was more than seventy-five years old at the time he com- 
posed the work — a period in life at which the mental and physical 
powers of man are usually in a state of feebleness — it may be safely 
said that this is a remarkable production, worthy of the palmy days 
of the man who wrote it, an honor to his head and his heart, and a 
pleasing contribution to the literature of his country. 

The residence of Elder Townsend is about ten miles south of 
Des Moines, he with his wife and grand-daughter, jointly with his 
son, Willliam and family, live upon a farm where we have had the 
pleasure of visiting him, and where, in his comparative retirement, 
among friends who love him, and who appreciate his generous 
nobility of heart, his years are passing away in contentment and 
social converse, still assisting in the cause of his Master in minis- 
terial labors whenever health and opportunity permit, and waiting 
with the Christian's hope, and the Christian's resignation, for the 
time to come when he and his beloved wife shall exchange the toils 
and sorrows of earth for the rest and happiness of Heaven. 

Des Moines, Iowa, June, 1874. 



PREFACE BY THE AUTHOR. 



The author lays no claim to notoriety, or erudition, sufficient to 
attract the enlightened public of this age. But, having passed 
seventy-five years in this sinful but otherwise beautiful world ; and 
knowing that he must soon leave it, and some reminiscences in his 
life be lost to posterity, and being persuaded to the arduous task by 
some — especially his old friend and blind editor, J. M. Dixon, of 
Des Moines, trusting that some humble follower of the Lord Jesus 
Christ might profit by his long experience in this world, as also his 
half-century experience in the Church ; to this end he has solemnly 
written this little volume. He has aimed to avoid personalities as 
much as circumstances would permit — so much so that some good 
stories are spoiled for the want of names. He has aimed to give 
facts, and let them stand for their worth in the estimation of an 
enlightened public. If, in any instance, he has erred, an intelligent 
and charitable public will attribute it to the want of recollection at 
this advanced age, rather than a disposition to vary from the truth. 
He claims to have the highest good of his fellow man in view. 

It is now disreputable to be an old man. Old men are called 
"nuisances" in some of our religious newspapers, The old saying 
is, "Every dog has his day." 

"But hush, my soul, nor dare repine, 
The time my God appoints is best. 

While here to do His will be mine, 
And His, to fix my time of rest." 

I suppose God leaves us here to be wheel-horses, to keep those 
sprightly leaders from running away with the Gospel Chariot, and 
amalgamating it with the world ; which, in too many instances, they 



VI PREFACE — BY THE AUTHOR. 

have already done. And yet the church is onward in its march, 
and upward in its aim, destined to fill the whole earth ; and the 
gospel achieve that victory over sin, until "all things whatsoever 
we would that men should do to us, we will also do unto them." 
"The will of God will be done on earth as it is done in Heaven. 
The full blaze of the millenial glory shall burst upon the world, and 
the happiness of each will consist in making others happy. Thus 
the earth will blend with the skies, and rising to shine with resplen- 
dent glory, while the Angels will join in the chorus glory to God in 
the highest, on earth peace and good will to men. The kingdoms 
of this world have become the the kingdoms of God and of Christ. 
Men and Angels all combine to acknowledge the sovereignty of 
God. For the Lord God Omnipotent reign eth." 
To this end this humble tribute is now dedicated by 

T. C. TOWNSEND. 



CHAPTER I. 

BIRTH, AND EXPERIENCE AMONG COLORED PEOPLE. 

Thomas C. Townsend was born January 22, 1799, in Nottaway 
county, State of Virginia. His father was married to Amy Booth of 
said county. His mother was truly pious. His father followed the 
business of overseeing negroes. The business in which he was 
engaged in early life forbade much attention to the subject of the 
salvation of his soul. He also resided in Lunenburg county, hav- 
ing spent ten years in Nottaway county as overseer for Thomas 
Epps of that county. 

During this time the subject of this history was born. My fath- 
er's employer, and most of the F. F. Vs., belonged to the Episco- 
pal High Church of England. The women frequently visited my 
mother and family. I well recollected the great style in which they 
would be driven up to my father's door in their finecarriages. They 
always brought a female servant to stand around and await their 
bidding ; they nearly always brought some presents to my mother. 
They professed a great regard for me, and thought it a great pity 
that I should not be christened. In that day I never heard it called 
baptism ; accordingly they prevailed on my mother to take me to 
what was then called Green's Church, to be christened. But a diffi- 
culty arose ; my father and mother did not either of them belong to 
any church, my mother having been excluded from the Episcopal 
Methodist Church for marrying my father — who did not belong to 
any church — which was according to the discipline of that day. 
The difficulty was, however, removed by a gentleman and lady 
volunteering to stand as god-father and god-mother, and promising 
solemnly to educate and bring me up in the nurture and admonition 
of the Lord. 

Thus I was duly christened Thomas C. Townsend ; and I have 
thought it was done to give currency to my name, for I never recol- 
lect to have seen my sponsors afterwards. In justice to my mother, 
let me say she often called on me of an evening to kneel at her 



8 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

knee and repeat the prayer our Lord taught his disciples to pray. I 
have no recollection of ever refusing, or even being opposed to 
doing so. 

My father followed his business as overseer until he had accumu- 
lated money enough to buy him a farm and several negroes. He 
then settled in Prince Edward county, Virginia. Previous to that 
time, and while he was yet overseer, he was drafted, in the year 
1 8 14, to serve for three months as a soldier, at Norfolk. 

One circumstance broke my father of all his severity to the blacks. 
His employer had a likely young negro, who was guilty of the great 
crime of wanting to be a free man, and had run away several times. 
The slave was finally chained to a flax break, the owner swearing 
he should never be released until he died, while he would give him 
just enough to eat to keep him alive a short time ; in addition, he 
was to be given a full task of flax breaking, and to be whipped 
every day while he lived. My father saw him one day catch a 
chicken at his flax break, and devour it as would a hawk ; at this 
sight my father felt such compassion that he would often, when he 
knew the master would be from home, fill his pockets with food from 
his own table and stealthily convey it to the poor negro. The boy 
died in about one year. The master was afterward thrown into a 
burning log heap, and burned to death. The negro that did it was 
hung, and thus ended that matter so far 'as this world is concerned. 
These scenes of barbarity, in the treatment of slaves, which I have 
been compelled to witness, make my heart bleed ! To this day the 
thought sickens, the mind recoils, at the idea ; my pen refuses to 
write them ; and I will only thank God that slavery is abolished ! 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 



CHAPTER II. 

YOUTHFUL ADVENTURES. 

My father had been gone to the army about four or five weeks, 
when I obtained a newspaper relating the awful catastrophe of the 
burning of the theatre at Richmond, with all its horrors and sacri- 
fice of human life ! It also related the facts of the British landing at 
Hampton, just above Norfolk, and of their brutal mistreatment of 
our women ! I well recollect that, while out in the timber shooting 
squirrels, the first patriotic sentiment that ever burned in my breast 
was a desire to avenge the women at Hampton. I hastened home 
with what squirrels I had killed, and told my mother I was going to 
the army. She remonstrated against it. She said I was too young. 
I replied that my mind was fixed, and that they who could kill a 
squirrel could shoot a man, and that I would start in a few days. 

My father was then stationed at Norfolk. I took the best horse we 
owned, and in a few days started for Norfolk, a distance of one hun- 
dred and twenty miles. I was then fifteen years old. The third day 
I reached my destination safely. I inquired for the 4th Regiment 
Virginia militia, and learned that they were stationed at the peach 
orchard. 

I rode up to the Colonel's markee, Thomas N. Wooding, Lieut. 
Colonel in command. This officer pointed out to me the place 
where Capt. Wm. Fitzgerald's company was, of which my father 
was a member. I soon found the company, and also the mess to 
which my father belonged, but was informed that he had been 
detailed that week to labor on Fort Nelson, a distance of three 
miles. The Nancymumb river had to be crossed where it empties 
into the bay. 

I returned to the Colonel's markee for him to tell me what to do. 
He had kindly ordered his servant to put my horse in his stable, and 
to feed and take care of him. The Colonel directed me how to go, 
and I was about to take leave of him, when he told me that I could 
not get out of camp, nor go where my father was, without a permit. 



10 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

He soon wrote one, requesting those who saw it to aid me in getting 
to my father. I thus passed the sentinels, and reached the river 
about one half hour before sunset. We crossed the river in a skiff, 
running close to the U. S. ship "Constellation," said to be the only 
frigate then belonging to the United States. It was a still, calm 
evening, and the band of music was in full blast. I became so 
enraptured with the music that I had a strong desire to enlist as a 
sailor on board the great ship. 

We landed on the other side, and through the agency of the Col- 
onel's permit I had no difficulty in finding my father. I found him, 
in the dusk of the evening, engaged in a wrestle with another man. 
I stood off watching, but he happened to see me ; and suddenly his 
wrestling propensities ended, he let go his antagonist, and laid hold 
of me ; he asked me how on earth I got there, and what was the 
cause of my coming. I soon told him all about it. And also told 
him he might go home, if he wanted to, and I would take his place. 
If not, I would take the place of some other man and stay with him, 
or volunteer. I intended to stay. Accordingly, the next day we 
went to the Adjutant General's office and, with some reluctance, I 
was received as a substitute for my father, and he started for home. 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 11 



CHAPTER III. 

ADVENTURES IN THE ARMY. 

Instead of going to finish the labor my father had been detailed 
for, I returned to the company; and as there was nothing for me to 
do, I went to the beach at low tide to find oysters. I soon found a 
sergeant and file of men after me. I began to think that it was not 
so funny after all to be a soldier. I was then taken to the officer of 
the fatigue party, and as I was not conscious of having done wrong, 
was freely forgiven, and the next day I finished the time of service 
for which my father had been detailed, returning then to the com- 
pany. Next morning at break of day, the drums were all rattling 
the alarm. The British had landed near the peach orchard where we 
were then stationed. The regiment was paraded instanter. That 
was the fir?t time I ever laid hands on my musket. I examined the 
flint, and found all right, cartridge-box filled with cartridges; and 
now, my boy we '11 see if you can stand fire, and avenge those women 
at Hampton, I loaded my gun in quick time ; and as the regiment 
was ready to march to the field of battle, the cavalry came gallop- 
ing up, and informed our officers that the British had retreated back 
to their ships, and were already ploughing the proud waves up to their 
fleet that lay just above Hampton Roads. 

Well, I felt both glad, and sorry too. Well, I thought, I'll get a 
crack at you yet ; but never did. I never knew why our officers let 
the enemy pass Craney Island without firing on them, as they had 
to pass one side or the other of them. 

I was detailed for guard and soon learned soldiers' duty, while 
both camp and picket guard were alternately my lot every week, 
and two hours' drill every day when not on guard. My old school 
teacher was in the same regiment, a very good old man, and Metho- 
dist preacher likewise. He was subjects to fits, and, in consequence, 
was put on the police, so-called in the army. He looked after me, 
and belived that I was imposed on in doing soldiers' duty. He per- 



12 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

suaded me to join "the police, as the duty was light. I told him I 
would volunteer to help sweep the encampment that evening and 
see how I liked it. I did so, but thought it would be letting down 
my soldier dignity to be called "camp cully man," when I returned 
home. So I declined his kind offer. 

About this time, there was a regiment of volunteers from North 
Carolina, who joined our troops ; and we were sent to Fort Barbour 
to stay in tents until we could build houses, giving up ours at the 
peach orchard, to the Carolina troops. I shall never forget the first 
night we passed in tents. In laying out the ground our tent was 
pitched in what Kentuckians would call a sink-hole. I was on 
picket guard at the time of removal, and did not get to our camp 
until late the next day. We had not yet obtained plank for a floor 
in our tent. As I had not slept the previous night, I rolled myself 
in my blanket for a night's sleep in the bottom of that sink-hole, the 
ground ascending all around it. That night, there fell the hardest 
rain I ever recollect to have witnessed. When I awoke, my body 
was nearly covered with the deluge, and I was strangling with the 
water running in my mouth. My limbs were benumbed, and it was 
with difficulty I could get up, My messmates had all gone, I knew 
not where. I could not see any fire except at the guard house. I 
knew there was a sentinel between me and that place. I made my 
way to him, was hailed and brought to. He called to the guard 
house for a sergeant and file of men to put me under guard, which 
was what I wanted, so that I might get to the fire. The officer of the 
guard looked at me with compassion, and said : " Come to the fire." 
A few minutes after, standing near the fire, I became sick, and vom- 
ited ; but after drying my clothes I felt better, and when it was fully 
day he bade me depart in peace. Thanks to God for his mercy, and 
the humanity of the officer. 

I was then detailed with about one hundred men out of our regi- 
ment to go up the Nancymumb river to cut timber to build us houses 
for the winter. Our task-master gave us twenty logs, or poles, apiece 
for our day's work. We were twenty miles up the river, in a tall, 
pine forest, in a very hospitable neighborhood, though none of them 
were wealthy. With ten or twenty acre farms, they raised some corn 
and plenty of sweet potatoes. We would finish our task in about 
three hours, as we would not cut a tree unless we could get two logs 
from it. We then had plenty of time to visit in the neighborhood, 
and were always kindly received. 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 13 

The young men of our party were frequently invited by the girls 
to cotton-picking frolics, where we would eat roasted potatoes and 
drink cider until late bedtime. The time passed swiftly away. I 
would have preferred to spend it all this way. In about three weeks 
we were called back to our camp, the logs being brought down in 
flat boats. Our houses were soon built. The timbers were green, 
and the cold winter of 1814-5 having set in, we failed to draw fire 
wood as had been expected. I have gone with others two miles to 
the forest to cut, and pack on our shoulders, barely sufficient fuel 
for cooking purposes. Our mess was lucky enough at this time to 
hire a negro woman to receive our rations, and bring our breakfasts 
and dinners to us in good order. 

About this time old General Porter was in command of the Divis- 
ion at this place. He was a perfect despot ! It was said that he rode 
up to a soldier, while at work, and said : 

" Soldier, work a little faster." 

The soldier did not mend his speed. The General, clapping his 
spurs to his old black horse, trampled down the soldier, and rode off 
without ever looking behind him ! 

One day, while on grand parade, his old black horse fell down 
with him, and landed him over his head on the ground. There was 
a burst of laughter along the line. He got up, and ordered his horse 
to be cobbed, his rations stopped for three days, and to be put in the 
black-hole — a place of punishment for soldiers. 

One circumstance I must not overlook : Our regiment had gone 
out under the three month's militia law of the State ; but the Legis- 
lature afterwards passed a six month's militia law, compelling the 
troops, who had gone out under three month's law, to stay six 
months ; which had a retrospective bearing, and was therefore 
unconstitutional. Thus we all thought to go home at the expiration 
of three months. The troops did not have winter clothing, and had 
not drawn any money, and were not likely to ; nor did they during 
our term of service. 

The first company whose term of three months expired, paraded 
without an officer, and marched up to Col. Wooding' s markee and 
told him they must have their pay or discharge, or they would go 
home without it ! This was a noble company, from Shenandoah 
county. The Colonel brought out his law book, and remonstrated 
against their act, warning them of the consequences. They told him 
it was of no use, their purposes were fixed ; and accordingly they 
stacked their arms in front of the Colonel's markee. 



14 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

The regiment was immediately paraded to punish the offenders. 
I never did anything more against my will, but had to obey ! We 
formed a hollow square around the company and marched them off 
two miles to the provost guard house, where they were crammed in, 
a strong guard of regular soldiers being placed around them. They 
were there kept on half rations for three weeks ; and then they were 
tried by a court martial, whose sentence was to shave the left side 
of their heads and faces, and their faces to be blackened with lamp- 
black and oil ; also, to be marched through the city in derision, and 
then to be taken to Craney Island, for hard labor, the other three 
months, and to receive black discharges ! Had they been tried by 
civil law, it would have been different. 

One brave fellow, who was on picket guard at the time, when he 
returned to camp and was told the fate of his company, went direct- 
ly to the Colonel's markee, staved his bayonet in the ground up to 
the muzzle of his gun, hung his cartridge box on the breach of his 
gun, saying he left home to share the fate of his company, and 
would do it. Accordingly, he was sent to them by a sergeant and 
file of men. 

At this time sickness prevailed to a very alarming extent. Some 
companies brought home less than half the number they had taken 
there. Christmas day there were upward of eighty graves dug in 
Potter's Field, besides those who were buried in church yards, which 
must have increased the number to at least one hundred ! The epi- 
demic was mainly typhus fever, together with what was called cold 
plague. They would frequently choke to death with phlegm. 

At this time I took the measles, mumps, and typhus fever, all at 
one time, the measles breaking out in my very eye-balls. I was sent 
to the hospital. The night I got there one died on each side of me ; 
I surely thought it was my time next ; but, in the providence of God, 
the attendant of the room was a cousin of mine, who spared no 
pains for my comfort ; the corpses were taken out and the room made 
comfortable. My food was wholesome, and medical attention was 
blessed to my speedy recovery. 

I had learned some bad habits — card playing, profane swearing, 
and drinking whiskey. We drew, with our ordinary rations, a gill 
of whiskey per day. I could not drink all of my gill in a day at 
first, but soon got so that I could drink it all before breakfast ; and 
often go to the sutler's and buy more in the evening. Such is the 
growth of this serpent as he throws his poisonous coil around his 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 15 

victim ! Thanks to God for what the Temperance cause has done 
for our world since that time. 

I was discharged with our entire company on the seventh of Feb- 
ruary, 1 815, our time having expired. I was yet in the hospital, but 
was so recovered as to be able to start for home. I drew one dollar 
and twenty-five cents to bear my expenses home. I thus started 
for home, and spent the last of my money in Petersburg. I then had 
some twenty-five or thirty miles to reach home. Luckily I found a 
teamster going within a few miles of my father's house, who kindly 
invited me to ride in his wagon, which I gladly did. 

At noon he stopped to feed his horses, near a tavern. I stepped 
into the tavern, and called for breakfast speedily ; and, after eating, 
told the landlord that I had no money. He flew into a rage, and 
asked me why I did not tell him before eating. I told him I was 
afraid he would not give it to me, and now I had it and I thanked 
him, and bade him good-bye. My Captain was in an adjoining 
room, and, hearing the uproar, came out ; and finding who it was, 
and knowing the small amount of money we had drawn, he gave the 
landlord a piece of his mind, and paid the bill. 

Thanks to my Captain. I shall ever venerate the name of Wil- 
liam Fitzgerald. I thus landed safe home by the dusk of the eve- 
ning. Mothers only can know the feelings of my mother as she 
recognized her imperiled son, once more restored to the bosom of 
the family circle. 



16 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE AUTHOR'S EDUCATION, AND RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE, TOGETHER 
WITH HIS CALL TO THE MINISTRY. 

After my arrival at home, my health had been so impaired by the 
suffering of army life, my father resolved to give me two more years 
schooling, and also to give me negro boy John, who was about two 
years younger than myself. (Of this we will speak hereafter). My 
difficulty was to find a suitable teacher, for the teachers of that day 
in that country were more thorough in spelling, reading, writing and 
arithmetic, than the teachers of the present day ; but they never 
taught English grammar in their common schools. Having comple- 
ted the study of arithmetic, I bought the entire series of Murray's 
English Grammar, and after diligent search found one teacher that 
said he could instruct me. Accordingly I commenced under his 
direction to commit the different parts of speech, and other elements 
as pointed out by him ; and thought I was doing very well, without 
making any application of what I had committed to memory, until 
falling in with a merchant who did understand English grammar. 
After examining me as to what progress I was making, he told me 
my teacher was incompetent, and that I was doing no good, and 
that I never would learn English grammar with that teacher. I quit 
school in disgust. Oh, that I had lived in this day, where the facili- 
ties of education are so abundant. But it was not so in my day. I 
have toiled, nevertheless, and studied hard to know something of 
the literary world. Especially has theology absorbed the little 
strength of mind that it has pleased God to give me. I think I 
shall not be condemned for not improving that one talent committed 
to my charge. 

In the year 1816, when I was 17 years of age, I was made the sub- 
ject of the convicting grace of God, under the preaching of Elder 
William Creth, of Virginia, at which time quite a number of young 
men of my associates professed to be converted, and some of them 
went immediately into the ministry. Among them was James G. 



Elder t. c. townsend. 17 

Jeffries, of Virginia notoriety. It was my lot to alternately retro- 
gade, and then, as I thought, to deeply repent, and mourn over my 
poor, sinful nature. 

I recollect, on one occasion, to have resolved to try myself for 
one week to live in a state of sinless perfection ; and, poor blind 
creature as I was, I thought I had done it, until the last day being 
sent to a store to purchase some articles that were indispensable in 
case of sickness. I there found some of my former school-mates 
engaged in a game of marbles, on the Sabbath day. They knowing 
that I was an expert at that game, I was immediately chosen to par- 
take in the game ; and did not have decision of character enough to 
say "No/" "If sinners entice thee, consent thou not." Thus I 
was found playing marbles on the Lord's day ! My reflections on 
my way home caused many tears to flow. This was the first time 
I saw clearly that without the Omnipotent arm of God was thrown 
around me, I must be eternally lost / Thus I began to have less 
confidence in myself, and to cry mightily to God if there was any 
mercy for me, to lead me in the right way. It was thus that I was 
brought "by a way I knew not, and led in paths that I had not 
known. Crooked things were made straight, and rough ways made 
smooth." 

In August, 1 817, I heard of a Methodist camp - meeting, about 
-twenty miles off, in Nottaway county. I resolved to go. It was 
held near where I had an uncle living, and where I would put up my 
horse and stay at the meeting until it closed ; and, if not converted, 
to give it all up, and know that hell was my portion ! Accordingly 
I went on the ground on Thursday ; and on Thursday night presen- 
ted myself as a mourner seeking an interest in Jesus Christ, and 
asking the prayers of God's people. I did so every time the oppor- 
tunity was given, until Sabbath evening. The friends who were 
encamped on the ground, kindly invited me to partake of their hos- 
pitality ; the preachers took special pains in talking with me. It all 
seemed to enhance my condemnation. I thought I was only in the 
way, and was worse than a nuisance ! I thought I would get out of 
the way and go home, as the meeting was to close the next morning. 
I wandered off, I don't know how, about one mile from the camp- 
ground, in a beautiful forest. The setting sun had already tinged 
the yellow leaves in the forest, and given them their golden hue. 
Such displays of the glory of God I had never witnessed before. 
Philosophers have called an indescribable sensation of the mind the 



18 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE Of 

emotion of sublimity ; but they have failed to tell us that that emo- 
tion ever revealed a Saviour. I fell prostrate upon my knees, and 
poured out my soul to God. From that day to this, I know not how 
I got back to the camp-ground. My first recollection was that I was 
lying prostrate on the outskirts of the camp-ground, with a preacher 
holding my head in his lap, and talking to me. Whether I was in 
the body or out of the body, I cannot tell ! God knows. My last 
thoughts had been that there was no mercy for me ! Unless the 
justice of God must fail, my doom was fixed ! I thought it would be 
better for me to go to hell than for the justice of God to fail in any 
instance whatever. I think I felt resigned for God's will to be done. 
At that moment my mind was turned to the expiring agonies of 
Jesus as he hung upon the bleeding Cross. 
It was thus, in the language of the poet : 

" I saw one hanging on a tree, 
In agonies and blood ; 

He fixed his languid eyes on me, 
As near his cross I stood ! 

Sure, never till my latest breath, 
Shall I forget that look. 

It seemed to charge me with his death, 
Though not a word he spoke ! 

A second look he gave, which said 
I freely all forgive. 

This blood is for thy ransom paid, 
I die that thou mayest live." 

I had vague notions of the Trinity, and thought that Christ had 
forgiven my sins. How shall I know that God the Father is recon- 
ciled to me ? When God the Father spoke the life giving word to 
my poor soul. "If the Son shall make you free, you shall be free 
indeed." 

I thus arose to tell, 

My Jesus has done all things well. 

The next day, as I rode home, the face of all nature seemed to be 
changed. The trees, 

" The birds in sweetest concert with nature joined their lays, 
All pointing out young christians combined in Jesus' praise." 

I felt like I was in another world. I went home and told the glo- 
rious news to my mother, and all around, what a dear Saviour I had 
found ! Redeeming grace and dying love was all my theme. 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 19 

At all times, when under religious impressions, I thought that God 
required it at my hand to preach the Gospel. My mind would be 
drawn out to sermonizing, involuntarily, although it seemed to be a 
great way off in the future, my course of life forbade it. My quali- 
fication forbade it — my whole nature forbade it. I therefore rested 
the subject with the Providence of God; and tried to forget it, too 
frequently engaging in merry company — much to the injury of my 
conscience. But I will try to relate the dealings of God's Providence 
with me as they come to pass thereafter. 



20 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 



CHAPTER V. 

TRAVELS TO KENTUCKY — THREE YEARS OF THE AUTHOR'S LIFE — 
HE MAKES A POLITICAL SPEECH — HIS ACQUAINTANCE AND MAR- 
RIAGE OF HIS WIFE. 

That fall my uncle where I had left my horse during my stay at 
camp-meeting, had started to move to Kentucky ; and stopping a few 
days at my father's, he wanted a teamster to drive his best team, and 
offered to bear my expenses back to Virginia, if I did not like to stay 
in Kentucky, and give me his best horse. I accepted his offer, and 
in a few days we started for Kentucky, and after four week's travel 
across the mountains, the Blue Ridge, the Alleghanies, the Cumber- 
land, and the Clinch mountains, with much toil and some privations 
on the road, we landed safely at his destination, in Gallatin county, 
Kentucky. After a few weeks looking around, I took my uncle's 
best horse, and went to New Castle, Henry county. I stayed all 
night with an old man whose age forbade his attention to his busi- 
ness. His name was Peter Fore. He was a Baptist, and said to 
be a very good man. He lived one mile north of New Castle. Af- 
ter learning my history, he made me an offer to attend to his busi- 
ness, which resulted in about three hundred dollars. I accepted his 
offer, and commenced with him at Christmas. I did not desire to 
form much acquaintance, but would go to meeting every Sunday. 
I inquired of a Methodist circuit rider to know if he would baptize 
me ? He said he could not if I had been baptized in infancy. I 
told him I had not been baptized, but was only christened. This, 
however, resulted in my examination of the Baptist Creed, the most 
of which I loved, especially their democracy in church government. 

Accordingly, in the month of August, 1819, I attended a church 
meeting of the United Baptists, at Sulphur Fork, Henry county, 
Kentucky ; and at the proper time, related my experience, which was 
received, and the next day I was immersed by Allen McGuire, pastor 
of the church at that place. I think I may say I went on my way 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 21 

rejoicing, that I had put on Christ by baptism, and tried to walk in 
newness of life, often communing with Christ from off the mercy- 
seat. It may not be amiss to state here, that the United Baptists 
was a compromise between the regular and separate Baptists. This 
compromise took place in an early day, at Lexington, Kentucky, 
with the addition of this article : that the preaching Christ tasted 
death for every man, should be no bar to fellowship. 

I would not engage in any business by the year, as I intended to 
go back to Virginia early the next fall. My father, in the meantime, 
had sold his possessions in Virginia, and intended to move to Ken- 
tucky the next fall, and had written to me to come in and assist him 
in settling up his business, and, also, to aid him in moving his 
family. A gentleman and brother in the Baptist Church, who lived 
on Corn Creek, William Connel, kindly offered to board me for 
nothing. I accepted his kind offer, and rented fifteen acres of land, 
which I paid for by repairing the fence, and tended it for the use of 
my father when he would come out. It was the best field of corn I 
ever saw. 

In the meantime, I dressed myself in the finest cloth I could find, 
and bought myself a very fine horse, saddle and bridle, with all 
other equipage necessary, and in the month of August went back to 
Virginia. My father, with my assistance, landed his family on Corn 
Creek, Gallatin county, and gave me the carriage his family rode out 
in, for my field of corn. I then had nothing to do that winter, but 
to wait on the girls, and take them wherever they wanted to go — 
a very poor business financially, and worse religiously. I sold my 
carriage in the spring, bought some horses, and took them with me, 
as I was going back to settle the remainder of my father's business 
in Virginia. It was now 1820, and I was twenty-one years of age. 
Having sold my horses and settled up all my father's business, and 
once more arrived safe at home, I called for a letter of dismission 
from the Sulphur Fork Baptist Church, and united with the church 
at Corn Creek. At that time the law of Kentucky compelled the ma- 
litia to muster four times a year : two company musters, a battalion 
muster in the spring, and a regimental muster in the fall, besides a 
week's drill in the spring for all the officers. General William O. 
Butler, then commanded a volunteer company, all uniformed in 
great style. As I hailed from old Virginia, I was vain enough to 
think I could beat him on drill. I made up a rifle company of vol- 
unteers, mostly young men. It was recognized bv the board of officers. 



22 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

I was duly elected Captain, and commissioned by the Governor. 
And now the contest arose between me and Capt. Butler. The 
judges deciding about equal between us. The excitement at drill 
musters sometimes raged very high. Two years ago, he heard of 
my son, William, being in Port William, and sent for him to come 
and see him. He sent me his photograph likeness. I am sorry he 
united his influence with the South, during our great Rebellion, after 
having figured so conspicuously in the Mexican War. 

In the meantime, my conscience said to me that my career in life 
was inconsistent with my religious profession. I still thought that 
God required it of me to preach his gospel ; but now three years had 
been more or less lost, and no preparation made for the great work. 
My course of life forbade that I should make it known to any one. 
I was often on my knees in secret prayer to God to deliver me from 
evil ; and in his providence, to open the way by which I might know 
and do his will. I did not want that even my mother should know 
the exercise of my mind. I took an old Bible, with the lids torn off, 
and hid it in the top of a tobacco-house, where I fed my plough-horse 
at noon. I would tear off a leaf at a time and put it in my hat, and 
when I would turn around at each end of the furrow, would commit 
to memory a verse, and study it while ploughing — a hard way to 
study God's word, but it was the best way I knew. And it was thus 
I graduated at the tail of the plough, and received my credentials 
from Heaven, not of the will of men, but of God. My military uni- 
form had cost me considerable money. My coat was trimmed in 
the first style. My sword, belt plume, epaulettes, and cockade were 
all of the costliest kind. And in addition to this, I sometimes gab- 
bled politics with more noise than brains. 

I recollect, at a battalion muster, to have been waited on by a 
committee, and informed that our democratic candidate was sick 
and would not be present. I had been chosen in his place to meet 
the opposing candidate, and make a speech in behalf of democracy. 
At the close of the muster, I told them to look around and find a 
man more suitable, but if they did not I would be forthcoming. 
They said they would look no farther, as I had been chosen by the 
caucus that morning assembled. Accordingly, after the muster was 
over, I met the opposing candidate on the platform, and followed him 
with a speech that was cheered more than it deserved. This was on 
Saturday, and the next day I was called into the pulpit by two old 
ministers who told me I must preach. I told them I could not preach 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 23 

to-day, and would not try. I thought, my God! this is mixing 
up matters too much ; I must choose between serving God and 
Mammon. 

Previous to this time, I was appointed by the church at Corn Creek, 
a delegate to the association, that was held near where I married my 
wife. I had seen her the first year I was in Kentucky, but was too 
bashful to introduce myself to her. We, the delegates from Corn 
Creek, made her father's house our home during the association. 
I then had communication with her while riding to and from the 
meetings, and informed her that I should continue my attentione 
and in due time would introduce the subject of matrimony. My 
attachment increased from the peculiar thinking powers of the 
family. Her father, without education only to read and write his 
own name, was perfectly at home when engaged in controversy on 
almost any subject in astronomy or philosophy. I have known 
him to solve problems in arithmetic, and get their answers, when a 
school teacher, then boarding at his house, had utterly failed. He 
had one son, Peter H. Vories, a Baptist preacher, with one ot 
the brightest intellects in Kentucky. Another son, Henry M. Vories, 
is now one of the Supreme Judges of Missouri, though his education 
is very limited. 

I will not relate the routine of courtship. Suffice it to say, in 
due time she said yes, and the rites of matrimony were celebrated 
between Thomas C. Townsend and Polly Vories, at the house cf 
her father, Francis Vories, on the second day of December, A. D. 
1824; Thomas C. Townsend, aged twenty-five years, and Polly 
Vories, aged twenty-three years. Present, were a host of witnesses. 
I was now married and settled in my own home, owning two hun- 
dred and fifty acres of land — a fortune if I had it now. 

I deliberated, and solemnly prayed to God to show me my duty in 
regard to preaching the gospel. I did not want to run without being 
sent. I knew I had an ability to accumulate property, which must 
not be indulged, if I entered fully into the ministry. I, therefore, 
resolved to leave it to the providence of God and the dictates of the 
church, without letting any one know my feelings on the subject. 

At the next meeting, when I was not present, the subject was 
brought before the church, and I was unanimously licensed to 
preach the gospel where God, in His providence, might cast my lot. 



24 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 



CHAPTER VI. 

THE HISTORY OF JOHN, WHO WAS GUILTY OF THE GREAT CRIME 
OF WANTING TO BE A FREE MAN. 

In the summer of 1833, my father had the negro boy John, who 
was previously spoken of. He was to be given to me for taking my 
father's place in the army. I had taught him to read, both printing 
and writing. He was shrewd and intelligent. He had runaway to 
Cincinnati, and there worked, unmolested and unobserved by the 
negro hunters, until he heard of a party to start from Indianapolis to 
Canada. He made his way to Indianapolis to join the party, and 
took up boarding with a man of his color. He was advertised with 
a large reward, and confessed to his colored host that he was the man 
for whom the reward was offered. His host revealed it to a Mr. 
Albertson, and they agreed to divide the reward, Albertson to go 
immediately after the boy's master. I was told in the evening to be 
ready to go with my father, and we were to start very early the next 
morning after John. We were early the next day in the town of 
Madison, Indiana, on the Ohio river, and there procured a brace of 
holster pistols apiece, as we were told the abolitionists would never 
permit u? to take John out of the State. 

We arrived within half a mile of Indianapolis, about one hour 
before sunset ; and there kept within doors for fear John might see 
us, while Albertson was to go on to town and get out a writ to give to 
the Sheriff for the arrest of John, bringing him to us at that place. — 
This was all done by the dusk of the evening. 

I immediately shook hands with John, my father doing the same 
thing. The Sheriff asked him if he knew us. He replied, " no, he 
did not know anything about us." Then the colored man who 
betrayed him, bristled up and said he would release John at all haz- 
ards, and that this was a free country, etc. While a sharp, sham 
quarrel was going on between this man and my father, he left — pre- 
tending to raise a mob to rescue John. The whole arrangement had 
been made by Albertson. 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 25 

The Sheriff took John to the tavern, where a large, upper room 
had been prepared for the occasion, in which were different kinds 
of spirituous liquors. Oh, the treachery and deception of man ! 
My Saviour was sold for thirty pieces of silver — a much less sum 
than Albertson and the colored man received for betraying John. — 
The Sheriff having delivered him to us in that upper room, retired 
to his own home, and we had plenty of company to take care of 
John. After the uproar had ceased, I asked John why he had run 
away. I told him of the great distress he had brought upon the 
entire family, both black and white, and especially his mother. I 
told him his dog had been "howling" for weeks over the plantation, 
hunting for him. 

He burst out crying. One of the bystanders said : 

" Come, John, tell us why you ran away." 

As soon as he could speak, he replied to the company : 

" Gentlemen, if I could go home with that young man, who ought 
to be my master, I would prefer it to being a free man in Ohio, Indi- 
ana, or anywhere else. But after young massa Townsend married I 
saw they intended to cheat him out of owning me, and the next 
thought I had was to run away ; for if I could not live with him, I 
would be a free man." 

We sent for Henry Brenton, to prove him our property. Brenton 
lived near us, and of him my father had bought his farm in Ken- 
tucky. He was then living near Indianapolis. John insisted that 
we should not wait, as he would go before the Justice and confess. 
We did so, and the Justice gave us a permit to take our slave out of 
the State. We were then informed again that the abolitionists would 
never permit us to do so, and that it was not probable that we would 
ever get him out of Indianapolis. 

I did not apprehend anv danger, for I thought my soldiership suf- 
ficient for the task. My father tied him as he knew how to tie a 
negro. I then told him to let me boss the balance of the job, and 
for him to ride close behind me with one pistol in his hand, ready 
for action ; while I would take the bridle of my horse, and the rope 
with which John was tied, in one hand, and one of my pistols in the 
other, and go before. We did so, and soon found a group of men 
gathered together at the further end of the town. They eyed us 
closely, but did not molest us. 

Having passed that danger, I was brought to reflect that what I 
was doing was altogether incompatible with the Christian religion, 



26 REMINISCENCES IN THE LlFE OF 

and I think I saw it as God saw it. I was evidently not doing as I 
would be done by. I told my father I would own John at the sacri- 
fice of the last item of property I owned on earth ! He replied that 
if John would rather live, with me than with him, I might have him. 
I then asked him if John was my property? He answered, "yes." 

I immediately called a halt, and released John of all encumber- 
ance, and told him to go to Canada, or where he pleased. He 
replied : 

" I am going home with you. Here, Mas Tommy, take my 
money." 

He handed me some thirty dollars. I told him to put it up, as I 
did not want it. He went right on to my house, merely calling to 
see his mother a few minutes. He went to work in good faith. 

In the meantime, the rich neighbors of my father owned a great 
many negroes ; and finding out that I had not obtained a bill of 
sale for John, they gave my father no rest, saying that John was 
educated and too intelligent ever to live a slave ; that he would run 
away again, and instruct their slaves how to escape — that, accord- 
ing to their standing rule, John must land in irons in New Orleans, 
for the sugar plantations. They knew better than to let me know 
anything of their projects. Accordingly, they watched their oppor- 
tunity when I was from home. They came into the field where John 
was at work, tied him again, and took him off. 

Had I been at home, my soldier courage would have been tested 
that time. When I returned home, and my wife told me what had 
been done, I trembled in view of what I would have done if I had 
been there. I wept for sympathy with John. I then wished John 
in Canada ; but wishing would do no good. Myself and wife rode 
over to my father's the next day, and found John there, tied, and 
under a strong guard, to start the next morning for New Orleans. I 
cannot describe the distress of the entire family — both white and 
black. 

My brother, younger than myself, had drawn up a petition to my 
father, begging the release of the slave. My mother, and all the 
family, had signed it. Of course I signed, and, while it was having 
its effect, I told my father, in haste, to set his price on John, and he 
should have his money by to-morrow night. He set the price of 
seven hundred dollars. I told him to untie John at my expense, 
which was done, and he went immediately to my house. I could not 
raise the money in so short time of myself ; and knowing a man in my 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 27 

neighborhood who had the money, and wanted John, after counsel- 
ing with the boy, we concluded it was the best we could do. I went 
immediately to that man, and pledged to him to pay back his money 
if John should ever run away from him. He pledged to me never 
to sell him. 

John lived with him twenty years, married one of his colored girls, 
raised a family of children, and made that man rich. After all this, 
he was sent to New Orleans in irons, on suspicion that he had aided 
some blacks in running away, and given instructions to them. 



REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 



CHAPTER VII. 

REMOVAL TO INDIANA — ORDINATION TO THE MINISTRY, ETC. 

Having got through with this trouble, like all my troubles, I told 
my wife I would leave Kentucky, at the sacrifice of all the property 
I owned. They might strip and whip negroes, and sell them, part 
men and their wives, and separate little children from their mothers ; 
but /would witness it no longer. Accordingly, I advertised all my 
property for sale at public auction ; sold my land for less than half 
its value, settled all my business in Kentucky, and in a very short 
time was a citizen of Indiana, five miles south-east of Indianapolis. 
I entered three eighties of land, in very heavy timber, and soon had 
my houses built, and was again set up on my own premises. I 
brought a letter of dismission from the church at Corn Creek, Ken- 
tucky, which stated fully that I was licensed to preach the gospel, 
wherever God in his providence might cast my lot. It recommended 
me more highly than I thought I deserved. This letter I handed in 
to the Lick Creek Baptist Church, five miles south of Indianapolis. 

I now preached more frequently than I had ever done in Ken- 
tucky. The Lick Creek Church called for my ordination, which took 
place on the twenty-ninth of December, A. D. 1834. The council 
was from Indianapolis, Little Buck Creek, Forks of Little Buck 
Creek, Bethel, and Pleasant Run, by the following presbyters : Ezra 
Fisher, Jameson Hawkins, and Abram Smock. The council being 
able and unanimous, I felt encouraged to go forth, bearing precious 
seed ; and soon found myself engaged to preach for four churches, 
on the old once-a-month plan. 

The country was newly settled, the churches poor, and could do 
but little for my support. I recollect this entry, standing upon the 
church book of Pleasant View, ten miles south-east of Indianapolis : 

" We have this day settled with Elder T. C. Townsend, as pastor 
of this church, and for his faithful services for one year, having 
never missed a meeting, we have paid him ten dollars." 



ELDER T. C. TOWN'SEND. 29 

I worked on my farm, and only lost Saturdays. At the end of 
the year I had about fifty dollars for preaching, and was as well off 
as the average of my brethren. You may ask how is this ? I will 
tell you. We all did the best we could, and the providence of God 
supplied all our wants. I speak advisedly and from experience ; for 
the last of my stay in Indiana I received an equivalent to eight hun- 
dred dollars a year, and laid up less than when I received fifty. I 
repeat, that people who put their trust in God, and do the best they 
can, God will supply all their wants. 

At this time I found that I lacked books to enable me to "study 
my sermons, and to shew myself a workman that needeth not be 
ashamed rightly divining the word of truth," and in this extremity 
God opened the way. 

There came to my house a Mr. Carpenter, from Connecticut, who 
was getting subscribers for a Comprehensive Commentary, and also 
Encyclopedia of religious knowledge. I told him they were the 
very books I needed. He then made me an offer, to pay for them 
by getting subscribers. I soon obtained enough subscribers to enti- 
tle me to the entire series of six volumes of Comprehensive Com- 
mentary, as also Encyclopedia of religious knowledge. This was 
the first of my work in the distribution of religious literature, which 
work I have followed, more or less, ever since. And I think I have 
distributed more volumes and tracts than any one man in the State 
of Iowa, and have no doubt but it will tell upon the interest of 
Christ's cause, long after my body shall lie low in the earth. God 
blessed my feeble efforts to the upbuilding of all four of the churches 
to which I was preaching, and added to their numbers such as should 
be saved. 

About this time, Elder George C. Chandler and myself, looking 
at the great need of our people's being supplied with our denomina- 
tional literature, we agreed to correspond with the Baptist Publication 
Society. This resulted in our sending for six hundred dollars worth 
of books, as an experiment, and afterwards for three hundred dol- 
lars worth. He would sell in Franklin College, of which he was 
President, and that vicinity ; while I would go in all the churches of 
which I was pastor, and sell books at Philadelphia prices. As they 
could only give us twenty-five per cent., we found it to be a losing 
business, and had to abandon it at that time. 

In one of my excursions in the business of book-selling, I stopped 
at Andersontown, county-seat of Madison county. There were a 



30 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

few brethren there, lately constituted into a Baptist Church. At 
their request, I held a series of meetings, which resulted in quite a 
number of conversions, and an addition of about thirty persons to 
the church. 

When at home, I now had the facilities for studying the word of 
God, and could prepare a new sermon every week for the coming 
Sabbath. Shortly after my return home, I received a letter from the 
Andersontown Baptist church, stating that I had been called to the 
care of that church — provided they could raise enough for my sup- 
port, and asking me how much would be sufficient. I replied to 
them I should demand just such a living as they had, together with 
the schooling of my children, clothing for myself and family such as 
they wore. If these terms suited them, they might send on their 
teams to move me, only let me know when. 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 31 



CHAPTER VIII. 

REMOVAL TO ANDERSONTOWN, AND ADVENTURES THERE. 

Thus there was another break-up. I rented my farm so that I 
should have possession of my house when called for. I made every 
necessary preparation, and, in due time, the teams were forthcoming 
to move my family. I found myself in charge of the Baptist Church 
at one of the most important county-seats in the State of Indiana. 
I moved there in the spring of 1840, and continued there until the 
fall of 1 841. God blessed the effort, and there were added to the 
church such as should be saved, until it was said by travelling 
agents, that it was the best Baptist Church at any county-seat in the 
State. 

During the summer of 1841, there was quite a number added to 
the church by baptism. A Mr. Swain had been doing business by 
merchandising in the town. He was one of your high-strung gen- 
tlemen, noble in all his bearing, but never seemed to care anything 
for religion. He spent that summer back in Ohio, whence he had 
emmigrated, his family still living in Andersontown. 

His wife, a very amiable woman, was a constant attendant at our 
meetings. She became convicted, and finally converted, and united 
with the Baptist Church, was buried with Christ in baptism, and 
rejoiced in Christ, her Saviour. Not long after her baptism, her 
husband returned home. Meeting with one of the citizens on his 
way home, he was informed of the baptism of his wife. He said he 
would whip Townsend on sight. Knowing him to be a very deter- 
mined man, our deacon, who was a merchant doing business in the 
place, on hearing this threat, thought it was his duty to come down 
and inform me of my perilous situation. He did so, and advised me 
to shun Swain for a few days, and for me not to go up in town, as he 
would see him soon, and endeavor to reconcile him. 

I replied, "I can't do that, Deacon. I always meet trouble like 
that at the threshhold." 



32 kEMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

Accordingly the next morning, after an early breakfast, without 
informing my family or any one else of my errand, I went directly 
to Mr. Swain's house, and knocked at the door. Mr. Swain opened 
the door; I saluted him with a hearty shake of the hands, and wel- 
comed him home. 

" Come in, come in," said Mr. Swain ; and, after the usual inquiry 
after the health of the family, and some conversation with Mrs. 
Swain, I said to him — 

" I suppose Mrs. Swain has told you she was made a Baptist while 
you were gone ?" 

He replied, " Yes, yes, all right, all right." 

"Well, Mr. Swain, when you get rested, you and Mrs. Swain come 
down and see us ; bring the children. Good morning." 

"Call again," said Mr. Swain. 

"Thank you." 

In the winter of 1840 and 1841, I itinerated over a large country, 
entirely destitute of Baptist preaching, and very little preaching of 
any kind. I visited Wabashtown, county-seat of Wabash county, 
on the Wabash river, and constituted the first Baptist Church of 
Wabashtown, all alone, because helps could not be had. I then held 
a meeting of days, and did the first baptizing ever done in the Wa- 
bash river, between Fort Wayne and Logansport. I left that church in 
a very prosperous condition, and after moving from Andersontown 
to my farm near Indianapolis, it was out of my reach. Elder 
George Sleeper moved to Wabashtown, and took the care of that 
church. He afterwards moved to Huntington. 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 33 



CHAPTER IX. 

DIALOGUE BETWEEN JUDSON BENJAMIN, AGED FOUR YEARS, AND HIS 

MOTHER. 

Judson — Mother, how came you to name me Judson ? 

Mother — My son, you were named for Adoniram Judson. 

Judson — Where is he now, and what is he doing ? 

Mother — He is now in Birmah, preaching to the heathen. 

Judson — Mother, tell me who are the heathen ? 

Mother — They are people who have no Bibles, and worship Jug- 
gernaut. 

Judson — What is Juggernaut ? 

Mother — It is a great ugly image the people worship. 

Judson — Don't they know any better ? 

Mother — No, my son ; that is what Judson went there for. 

Judson — And do they like him for it ? 

Mother — By no means. His life is in constant danger. 

Judson — Well, what does he stay there for? 

Mother — He is staying there to teach the people the true God. 

Judson — Where did he go from ? 

Mother — He went from Boston. When you get older I will tell 
you more about it. 

Judson — Well, whether you do or not, when I get to be a man 1 
will go and help him. That's so ! 

His mother smiled, as did his friends afterwards, perfectly incredu- 
lous that it would ever come to pass ; but, boy as he was, his purpose 
was fixed indelibly on his mind, never to be eradicated. 

His father died and left him, I think, an only son, to take care of 
his widowed mother. Time swiftly passed away, and his mother 
was married to Doctor Tracy, of Shelby county, Indiana. The poor 
boy, by this time, saw no way by which he could get an education to 
carry out his purpose so fixed in his childhood, and yet he trusted 
in God. 
3 



34 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

It came to pass one night that the great, eminent lawyer, of Indi- 
anapolis, Calvin Fletcher, paid Judson's step-father a visit, and 
stayed all night. Judson, by this time, was large enough to be 
ostler. The next morning he brought out Mr. Fletcher's horse, and 
lingered at the stile, holding him by the bridle until Mr. Fletcher 
mounted. As Judson put his foot in the stirrup, he said — 

" Mr. Fletcher, stop a moment, if you please. I didn't sleep any 
last night, I was so glad you came here. Please don't tell Doctor 
Tracy ; but I thought if you would get me away to live with you, I 
could get an education. I want to go to Adoniram Judson, in Bir- 
mah. Mr. Fletcher, I will be a good boy, and do every thing you 
tell me to do." 

Mr. Fletcher started for home, and that night it was his turn not to 
sleep ; and the next night found him again at Doctor Tracy's. He 
conversed privately with Judson's mother, and then told Doctor 
Tracy he had come for that boy. He would give him a better edu- 
cation than he could get away there on Blue river ; so the Doctor 
might give him up, and he would take him home with him, and that 
he had come purposely for him. The mother being consulted, gave 
her consent ; and the Doctor could not refuse, as the boy was not his 
child. So Mr. Fletcher took Judson Benjamin home with him, over- 
looking, as everybody did, his childish whim of going to Birmah. 

Mr. Fletcher did nobly for him. He gave him all the education 
he thought essential for the bar, and took him into his office to study 
the law. All this time he did not profess religion. During a general 
revival of religion, Judson professed to be converted, and united 
with the Baptist Church. Mr. Fletcher found him alone in the office, 
shedding tears, when the following conversation took place. Said 
he— 

" Mr. Fletcher, I cannot study these law books. It is not to be my 
business of life. I told you, at the first, I wanted to go to Adoniram 
Judson, in Birmah. My recent conversion, as I trust, has increased 
that desire. My mind is so absorbed on that subject I cannot study 
any thing, unless it is to prepare me for that mission. Mr. Fletcher 
you have been more than a father to me. I know not how you are 
to be compensated. And now, Mr. Fletcher, if you will let me go, 
if it is ever in my power you shall be remunerated for what you have 
done for me." 

Mr. Fletcher asked him if he could not be persuaded to give up 
that childish whim ? He answered — 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 35 

" No. It has been my fixed purpose from my earliest childhood, 
and with my growth has only increased. I never can give it up. 
Therefore, it is useless to keep me here any longer." 

Mr. Fletcher said : " Well, you must do as you think best ; and 
when you get that notion out of your head, come back and I will 
receive you." 

Judson thanked him, laid down the law books, packed up his 
clothes, and went down to Franklin College, to see the facilities of 
study, preparatory to his mission. He was without money, and there 
was no arrangement for beneficiaries in the College at that time. He 
was thrown entirely upon his own resources. 

There was a drove of hogs to be driven from that place to Madi- 
son, a distance of eighty miles. It was cold, raining, and muddy, 
and very difficult to get hands ; consequently he got good wages, 
and enlisted among the hog drovers. This enabled him to buy 
some books, and he could work mornings, evenings, and Saturdays, 
for his board. He continued at Franklin College one session ; and, 
being an acceptable school teacher, he came to Andersontown, 
taught a public school there, and lived in my family. 

During this time, he wrote to every prominent Baptist minister in 
the State, asking aid and counsel as to what he should do to enable him 
to prepare for his mission ; and, as far as I know, they universally 
poured cold water on what they called " a youthful whim !" I have 
seen him read their letters, and take a hearty cry. Thus he was 
driven from the State, to seek an asylum some where else. He has 
walked seven miles to get to my meetings. I always asked him to 
take a part. He was not brilliant, but he had perseverance, and 
was at all times reliable. 

At one time, I sent him to fill an appointment for me, seven miles 
away, where I knew he would fall in with a brother of capital, think- 
ing he might aid him ; and, after preaching he made known all his 
pretensions to that brother, and dared to ask his aid, when he was 
told if he would go home with him, and go to grubbing, he would 
get good wages ! Thus, I repeat, he was driven from the State. He 
went to Kentucky, and there fell in with Elder William C. Buck, 
who was editing the Baptist Banner ; in Louisville. He kindly took 
him in, gave him good wages, and sent him out as an agent for the 
paper. He soon made money enough to resume his college studies. 
He went to Alton (Ills.) College, and there graduated as a literary 
scholar, having made great proficiency in the study of the lan- 
guages. 



36 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

That fall I met with him, on his way to Brown's University, as he 
wished to graduate with Francis Wayland. He asked me to let 
him have ten dollars, never to be returned if he went to Birmah. 
He soon graduated with Doctor Wayland, and came out a thorough 
linguist. He offered himself to the Baptist Board of Foreign Mis- 
sions, was received, married a lovely wife, and they both departed 
from Boston, and joined Adoniram Judson in Birmah. 

I confess I felt indignant when it was said at the next general 
Association that Franklin College had a representative in Birmah. 

I have been thus concise in the history of Judson Benjamin, in 
hopes it might be a stimulus to young men struggling under diffi- 
culties to obtain an education. 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 37 



CHAPTER X. 

RESUME OF AUTHOR'S EXPERIENCE — SINGULAR CASE OF DR. HOYT. 

Among those who united with the church at Andersontown, were 
the tailor, his household, one lawyer, one doctor, one merchant, and 
many other persons. I should have continued there longer, but for 
one circumstance : The agent of the general Association stopped 
with us a few days, and persuaded me to accept a commission from 
that body, and they would support me as their missionary. I left it 
to the brethren, and, through the persuasion of the agent, they also 
consented. 

That fall the general Association became bankrupt, and could not 
pay their Missionaries. The agent had collected the subscription at 
Andersontown, given for my benefit. When the brethren heard this 
they were indignant at the agent. In haste I wrote home for teams 
to' come and move me. The brethren, not knowing it, had made 
ample provision for me to stay; but my teams were on hand, and 
we went home. 

Having all once more arrived at home, on our own premises, and 
in our own house, all well and hearty, we all went to work with a 
good will, and soon recovered the damage of breaking up. Our 
children had enjoyed the benefit of better schools than were to be 
had in this country, which was no small item. 1 had a better oppor- 
tunity of studying, and had access to every lawyer's office, and, 
indeed, to all the literary men of the place. Among them were 
some eminent Greek scholars. I often had their Greek criticisms 
on the text 1 was going to preach fn*n ; as, also, their criticisms on 
my sermon after it was preached. So, that, on the whole, I never 
regreted living at Andersontown. 

I ought to have mentioned that I had previously sold my farm 
near Lick Creek, and greatly bettered our condition by entering 
again near New Bethel, six miles south-east of Indianapolis. We 
were enabled to build better houses, to clear more land, and were 
more in the center of the field of my operations. Our membership 



38 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

was now in the Bethel Church. We soon found ourselves gaining in 
property ; and I was soon engaged in preaching for four churches 
again. We were comparatively contented and happy ; and, best of 
all, sinners were being converted, and the churches were prospering. 

Many will recall the hard case of the removal of the Cherokee 
Indians from Georgia and Tennessee, to Arkansas. They repudia- 
ted, and tried to disannul the treaty of their chief with the Govern- 
ment, in regard to the removal. 

A large portion of them resolved not to go ; and when the govern- 
ment troops were sent to forcibly take them away, they were engaged 
in putting in their spring crops. Many of them were taken from 
their plows, and left their horses standing hitched to them. The 
effect upon them was so demoralizing, they have not recovered from 
it to this day. 

The Presbyterian missionaries among them had much trouble in 
trying to reconcile them to their fate. A certain minister of the Pres- 
byterians from Ohio, had been long with them, had raised a family 
among them, and his son (Milo Hoyt) had married the Chief's 
daughter. As there was a division of sentiment with them in regard 
to their removal, he had taken the side of emigration, which ren- 
dered him so unpopular, he said his life was in danger. He, there- 
fore, took his family, consisting of himself, his wife, and four chil- 
dren, and moved to Ohio. As he was raised without work, he turned 
Doctor, and combined the Cherokee Practice, which consisted of 
charm, or witchery, with the Thompsonian Botanic Practice of 
Medicine. 

No doubt the Devil told him it would be nice to put away his Indian 
wife, and marry a white girl. To that intent, he persuaded his wife 
to take two of the children, and visit her father. She consented, 
and did so, intending to return in due time ; but she carried a letter 
to her father from Hoyt, directing that she should never return, 
as he would be married to a white girl before she could get back. 
Her father sent the two children she had with her, to Alton (Ills.) 
College, and took his daughter liome to live with him. 

The Doctor married again, but was soon a widower. He, then, in 
order to escape the excitement in the Presbyterian Church, (of which 
he was a member, and from which he had been excluded), moved 
away, and settled at Bethel. His brother, who was a Presbyterian 
minister, had been silenced from preaching, for aiding and abetting 
in his brother's second marriage. In the Baptist Church of Bethel 
I held my membership, and was also its pastor. 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 39 

The Doctor, falling in love with one of our Baptist girls, became 
very conscientious about baptism. I had witnessed such things 
before ; and when he offered himself for membership in the church, 
being moderator, I had no right to a vote, unless there was a tie. I 
had given advice, which was all that I could do. By a vote of the 
church, he was unanimously received. I had my protest entered on 
record against it. He then came to me to know what would be done 
about his baptism. I told him I would baptise him on the principle 
that I was a servant of the church ; after doing which I would be 
clear, and the church must shoulder the responsibility. 

The next day I baptized him, in the presence of a large assembly 
of people. He was soon after married to the girl previously spoken 
of. He took special pains to ingratiate himself into my favor. I 
treated him respectfully. He asked to put his daughter Sarah into 
my family, as he wished my wife to teach her domestic economy. 
My oldest daughter, who was then teaching school, was to instruct 
her in the common branches of literature. We took her into our 
family, and found her to be a good girl, fully susceptible of being 
instructed. We endeavored, as far as she was concerned, to break 
down the prejudice of caste. I recollect a neighbor who came to me 
to invite my girls to a party at his house. I told him if Sarah was 
not invited, my girls should not go. 

That fall Hoyt's Indian wife came all the way from Arkansas to 
see her children. She came by Alton College and brought her 
oldest daughter with her, who was a profound scholar, highly accom- 
plished, and one of the best singers I ever heard. Her mother came 
into the Doctor's house. Sarah was there. She embraced and 
kissed her daughter, bathing her face with a shower of tears ; and, 
without speaking a word, turned on her heel and walked out of 
the house. 

She went to where two of the Doctor's sisters lived, (a distance of 
about two miles) with whom she had been associated in the Mission 
School. She had not yet seen her son, a boy about twelve years old. 
She brought a letter from their Mission Station to Henry Ward 
Beecher, who was then preaching for the New School Presbyterians 
at Indianapolis, requesting him to assist her in getting an interview 
with her children. I knew that Mr. Beecher could do her no good. 
I thought it was in my power to assist her, and I would do it ; so 
after preaching the next day, I told my wife we would go over to 
Mr. Ellis's, who had married one of the Doctor's sisters, (the other 



40 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

was yet a single woman) where the Indian woman was staying. 
We found her there, much cast down and dejected. 

I invited her to take dinner the next day at my house. She hesi- 
tated, but Miss Anna Hoyt told her to go, and she would go with 
her. They were both at my house early the next day. I had gone 
to the Doctor and told him that he was not aware of the excitement 
through the entire neighborhood, as also in the church, which was 
caused by the coming of the Indian woman. He informed me that 
he had heard that there were Cherokee Indians in ambusk to kill 
him. I told him 1 had one request to make for his benefit, and 
must not be denied. This request was, for him to send Hinmon, his 
son, to my house, as Sarah was already there, and let their mother 
have an interview with her children, in a room to themselves all 
night, at my house. I told him I would not persuade them to go 
away with their mother, although I did believe it would be far bet- 
ter for them ; which plan was carried out to the very letter. 

In the evening, when it was time for them to go home, I told my 
son William to get a horse and take Miss Anna Hoyt home. As 
Mrs. Hoyt was putting on her shawl, I requested her to take it oft", as 
she was not going that night. I said Hinmon would be there in a 
few minutes, and that she should have this room alone with iier 
children all night. There were two beds in the room, and plenty of 
wood provided for their comfort. You cannot imagine her thankful- 
ness. Miss Hoyt also commenced taking off her shawl. I told her 
she knew she was welcome at my house, but that she could not stay 
in this room. She then concluded to go home, and William took her 
home on horse-back. 

After she was gone, I entered into a more familiar conversation 
with Mrs. Hoyt. I asked her if she intended to get a divorce ? She 
answered, "No." She would spend her days in grief and sor- 
row ; that he had won her affections in her youth, and they would 
last with her life. I then asked her, if in the providence of God he 
should be a widower again, if she would live with him ? She ans- 
wered, "No." That he had forfeited all the ties of matrimony 
between them, and that her die was cast for this world ! 

Seeing that she was deeply affected, I changed the subject, and asked 
her about the affairs of her nation. She said they had succeeded in 
banishing the liquor traffic ! I then inquired about their Mission 
Stations, the qualifications of their native preachers, etc. She said 
the Missions were prosperous, but had never recovered from their 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 41 

removal. She said they frequently exchanged pulpits with the Bap- 
tists, and knew no denominational difference. She said the Presby- 
terian native preachers were all educated. I then asked her what 
she meant by their being educated ? How much education they did 
have ? She replied, they understood all the English branches, and 
so much of the Greek as to be able to translate the New Testament. 
She also said that I resembled Jesse Busheyhead, a native Baptist 
preacher. I asked her if he was an educated man ? She answered, 
" No." I then asked her how much education he did have ? She 
replied he could only read and write, and understood arithmetic, with 
a little smattering of English grammar. 

Then I said, " Do you call that an uneducated man ? Why, mad- 
am, that is all the education I have." 

She dropped her knitting in her lap, and looked at me with sur- 
prise, and asked if I was sincere ? I answered her in the affirma- 
tive. 

The next Sabbath morning she started for home, and the scene 
that occurred at our church beggars description. They had taken 
Sarah home, for fear she would go away with her mother. Her 
step-mother, if she might be called so, had taken her early to church 
and made her sit by her side. When my eldest daughter, who had 
previously had control of Sarah, came to church and found Mrs. 
Hoyt, the Indian woman, sitting in the wagon crying, she asked her 
what was the matter ? She replied, she was not allowed to bid Sarah 
farewell. She was then told that Sarah should be brought immedi- 
ately to the wagon to see her. My daughter went into the house, 
and took Sarah by the hand, and pulled her to her feet, while her 
step-mother arose to take her away ; when a half-dozen, or more, 
women rushed between Sarah and her step-mother, and thus assisted 
my daughter in taking her to the wagon to bid her mother farewell. 
Under these circumstances I had to preach that day. 

After the Indian woman, Mrs. Hoyt, had reached home, I received 
a letter of thanks from the Presbyterian Mission, for assisting Mrs. 
Hoyt ; and also, demanding a trial of the Doctor in the church. 
They said their Mission was suffering from the fact that the Indians 
would tell them, Milo Hoyt was enjoying church privileges in a 
christian church. Hence, they would say, " No religion." 

At the next church meeting I presented their letter to the church. 
The church took up the case, and called a council from sister 
churches. The day was fixed for trial, and I was appointed by the 



42 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

church to see Henry Ward Beecher, and request him to procure the 
testimony from Ohio, and to meet with the council and prosecute the 
case, which I did; and Mr. Beecher agreed to do so — but he failed 
to obtain the testimony, and did not meet with the council. 

The council met, and decided no action for the want of testimony. 

I had a very pleasant interview with Mr. Beecher. He gave me a 
new idea of the scriptural view of marriage ; which, after examina- 
tion, I have indorsed and held ever since. To give his own lan- 
guage, he said — 

"I tell you, Townsend, if my wife leaves me, and I find her in 
the meanest house in all the city, she is my wife still ; or, I have no 
wife while we both live." 

Whether Mr. Beecher kept that principle inviolate in the case of 
McFarland and Richardson, is for an intelligent christian public to 
say. 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 43 



CHAPTER XL 

ANECDOTES OF COL. RICHARD M. JOHNSON — A COLORED MAN MAR- 
RIES A WHITE GIRL - GOVERNOR WHITCOMB TAKEN TO BE A 
COLORED MAN — INDIANAPOLIS ASSOCIATION. 

About this time, Col. Richard M. Johnson, of Kentucky, was a 
candidate for the Vice-Presidency of the United States. When on an 
electioneering tour, in the State of Ohio, he came to some public 
works where there was a large body of Germans at work. The 
Colonel proposed to make a speech to them, and give them the 
documentary testimony, that in Congress he had ever been the 
friend of the foreigner, especially the Germans. Near that place 
there was a body of Irish at work, and the Colonel in turn had to 
address them, and said he could not tell which he liked the best, the 
Germans or the Irish. Then an Irishman rose to his feet, and said — 

"Faith, and I b'lave ye like the nager better than aither of us." 

We now lived near Bethel, Marion county, Indiana. 

There was a Kentuckian, who settled near Indianapolis, with a 
large family of girls. He brought a colored boy with him, intend- 
ing him to have his freedom when grown. After some years, the 
man died, and left the colored boy the only male in the family. By 
the good economy of the widow, and the industry of the boy, they 
made a very good living ; the girls at times assisting in out-door 
work. The boy grew to manhood, and in process of time, courted 
one of the girls, and gained her consent to their marriage, provided 
her mother was willing. The mother did not know how to spare the 
boy. They were doing well on the farm. As a family, they were 
happily situated, and she finally gave her consent to the marriage. 
Accordingly they were duly married. 

That night there came a set of ruffians to the house, who took him 
out of bed, and he was never seen afterwards. It was said they 
broke the ice in White River, and put him under. They took her, 
and putting a side-saddle wrong end foremost on a mule, placed 



44 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

her on it, driving the mule through the city in derision, after which 
they let her go. 

The Legislature was in session at the time, and spent one week in 
passing those stringent laws against the intermarriage of the two 
races. But there were some so nearly white they could not tell which 
race they belonged to. We will give an instance in point hereafter. 
My neighbors were high-minded Kentuckians, and very sociable, 
frequently visiting our family, and bringing their families. If the 
night was dark when they returned, they provided hickory bark to 
light them home. Supper was always expected. 

On one occasion, there being quite a number of them at my house, 
and all of them Dick. Johnson men, the treatment of the negro 
who married the white girl, was the principal topic of conversation 
for the night. They affirmed the treatment of the girl was all right. 
Turning to my wife, they said, — 

"Don't you think so, Sister Townsend?" 

To which she replied, — 

" I suppose, as she is a woman, it must be thought to be right. 
But when the men do so you want to make them vice-presidents of 
the United States!" 

There was a long silence. 

About this time, 1844, the Indianapolis Association of Baptists held 
their anniversary in the city. I was often associated with Elder 
John Brice, who had been pastor of the First Baptist Church of 
Richmond, Virginia. He had been a member of the Kentucky 
Legislature, and also of the Indiana Legislature. He now renoun- 
ced politics, and wished to spend his days devoted to the ministry. 
I invited him to be with me as often as he could, as I was then 
preaching for four churches. He was an accomplished scholar, a 
gentleman, and intelligent. He was just the man I had need of as 
a counselor. The week of the Association at Indianapolis, he had 
made an appointment for us to visit and preach at Greenfield, coun- 
ty-seat of Hancock county, to commence on Monday night. We 
were to meet at Cumberland, on the National road, the half-way- 
place between Indianapolis and Greenfield, at the house of Dr. 
Pleasants. When I got there, the Doctor informed me that Elder 
Brice had gone on by way of a public conveyance. He left word 
for me to come on. The Doctor invited me to alight and rest. I 
told him no. I said, — 

" I see a man on horseback, coming up ; I may have company," 
As the person approached nearer, the Doctor said,— 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 45 

"You will have company ; that 's Governor Whitcomb." 
"Well, so much the better, I love big company." 
Riding up by his side, after the usual salutation, I said, — 
"Dr. Pleasants took you to be Governor Whitcomb." 
He smilingly said, "The Doctor was mistaken." 
We traveled on. Said I, " Have you traveled far west ? " 
"No farther," said he "than Indianapolis." 
"What part of the city did you spend you Sabbath in?" 
" He answered " down on the canal." 
"Why did you not come up in the heart of the city ? " 
He said, "I preached yesterday, down on the canal." 
" What denomination ? " 
He said " Baptist." 

" Why," said I, " I preached yesterday in the city for the Baptists, 
and there is but one Church of the Baptists there." 
He replied, " I preached for the colored church." 
" How long has there been a colored church there?" 
" Only one month, and this is their first meeting since they were 
organized, one month ago." 

I then eyed him with all the scrutiny I was capable of. 
"Well, sir, there is still a mystery about it. Why did you take so 
much on yourself to ride so far to preach to the colored people ?" 
" Do you not perceive that I am a colored man ? " 
" No, sir, I fail to see it. True, your hair is a little curly, but not 
more so than a great many white men." 

I then invited him to meet with the Association next Friday, or 
Saturday, and present his colored church for reception into our body. 
I promised him, if he would do so, I would preach for them as often 
as I could ; for them to occupy the Baptist house at an hour when it 
was not occupied by the white church. I learned that he had been 
his master's waiter in Congress, and that his master was his father. 
He had been educated and given his freedom. He had the peculiar 
southern air about him. I never spent a more agreeable ten mile's 
ride in my life ; and at night joined Elder Brice in an interesting 
meeting in Greenfield, which was continued until Wednesday. We 
then left to go home to prepare to go to the Association, which would 
commence on Friday following. The Association held a very har- 
monious and interesting session ; for in that day there were no D. D.'s 
in the State. All felt they were brethren, identified in one common 
cause. 



46 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

The business of the Association being over, on Saturday afternoon, 
the prudential committee reported the distribution of the ministers to 
the various denominations in the city for Sunday preaching. It fell 
to my lot to preach for the Second Methodist Church. Their house 
not being completed, they worshiped in the court-house. In due 
time I was on hand, and was conducted up to the Judge's stand. 
During prayer, there was quite a crowd waiting at the door, and as 
soon as prayer was ended, there was quite a rush to all the various 
seats in the house. The house was filled to overflowing. Among 
the rest, I thought I recognized my colored man previously spoken of, 
marching down the isle, with his eyes fixed on me. Well, thought I, 
I shall not invite you up to the stand, as I am not at home, and it 
might give offense. He came right up as near as he could get, and 
stood gazing at me. The sexton handing him a chair, he sat down, 
and after pulling off his gloves, displayed his gold-headed cane. 
Well, thought I, a pretty high move for a colored man, but I will 
not notice you any farther. I proceeded to take my text. I recol- 
lect it was, " Testifying both to the Jews, and also to the Greeks, 
repentance towards God, and faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ." 

Our first business was to show the inseparable union of these two 
cardinal points of doctrine; that there was no repentance without 
faith ; no evangelical faith but what produced repentance ; and that 
they were both the gift of God, and the act of the creature. 

Secondly, I spoke of repentance and faith as being imperative. 
God commands all men everywhere to repent. I closed with 
remarks on their effect upon those who are brought under their 
influence. The Devil told me I had done pretty well for me. 

The day was warm, and I was considerably exhausted, and I 
inquired if there was a minister in the congregation who would come 

up and close the services. I was told a Mr. was there. I knew 

him to be a still-house Baptist, and did not wish him to come. He 
excused himself. Looking down at my colored man, as I thought, 
and he staring me in the face, I said to him, — 

" You close by prayer, will you ?" 

Waving his hand, he said, "No, sir! no, sir! Excuse me, sir, 
excuse me." 

Well, I thought, we would have no more trouble about it. I con- 
cluded the meeting with a short prayer, and dismissed the audience. 

I found Mr. Wilkins at the foot of the steps, waiting to take me 
home with him to dinner. We did not more than get out of the 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 47 

court-house yard, until Mr. Wilkins asked me how I came to invite 
Governor Whitcomb to close the meeting ? 
"Was that Governor Whitcomb ? " 

"Yes." 

Well, well, thought I, that is just like me. I never do anything 
big, but I spoil it before I quit. In the afternoon the preachers met 
at the house of Nicholas McCartie, all telling their adventures. I 
told mine, but enjoined it on them to keep it a secret. In a few 
weeks, however, I found it going the rounds of all the newspapers 
in the State. Especially the abolition papers, would make capital of 
it, so that it was sometimes hard to distinguish between the two 
races. When I first saw it, I thought I would write to the Governor, 
and let him know that it was published without my knowledge or 
consent. But after sleeping on it, I thought the least said was the 
soonest mended; or as Josh. Billings says, "When you let the cat 
out of the wallet never try to put her back." I do not know which 
was bored the most over it, the Governor or myself. Not long after- 
wards it was said, when the Governor married in Lawrenceburg, and 
applied for license, the clerk demanded his free papers, as also a 
certificate of his color. Governor Whitcomb was the only man ort 
earth that I recollect to have gone out of my way to shun. When 
about to meet him on the sidewalk, I always had business on the 
other side of the street. 

Calvin Fletcher was at Indianapolis at a very early day, when the 
first Legislature met at Indianapolis. There were some green back- 
woodsmen among them, who rebelled against paying the exorbitant 
price for board. One of them, having lived on gingerbread a few 
days, sleeping where he could, met Mr. Fletcher going to his din- 
ner. Supposing him to be a single man he asked Mr. F., "where 
do you board ? " 

Mr. Fletcher replied, "I board out here in the country." 

" What do you pay for board ? " 

" I do chores for the woman I live with for my board." 

"I wish I had such a chance." 

. " Come along then with me to dinner." 

After being introduced to Mrs. Fletcher, she was informed the gen- 
tleman wished to get board, and pay for it by doing chores. 

" Well," said Mrs. Fletcher, "if I take the gentleman I must turn 
you off, Mr. Fletcher ; I have no more chores than one man can do." 

"Never mind me, Madam, I am tired of the business; I can get 



48 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

board nearer my office. If you and this gentleman can agree, all 
right." 

At night he had to tell the gentleman the joke to get rid of him. 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 49 



CHAPTER XII. 

REMOVAL TO WABASHTOWN — MARRIAGE AND DEATH OF BOTH OUR 
DAUGHTERS — OUR SON GOES TO CALIFORNIA. 

In about the year 1845, tne Huntington Baptist Association was 
formed, including five county-seats, namely, Fort Wayne, Hunting- 
ton, Wabashtown, Peru, and Logansport. At their anniversary in 
1847, I was called to itinerate in the bounds of that Association. I 
accepted the call, which made necessary another "break-up." Doc- 
tor Franklin said — 

"Two removes were as bad as one fire." 

This was the fifth with us, so it is not to be wondered at that in 
property we were doing a losing business. Yet, I cannot say that I 
ever regretted any removal we ever made. We settled at Wabash- 
town, which was the center of my field of operations ; but, having 
five counties to range through, it was like putting a needle in a hay- 
stack. I did the best I could, and induced ministers from abroad to 
settle with the destitute churches where ever there was a chance for 
their support ; and those standing idle, to go to work. There was 
not much prosperity, and yet they manifested a willingness to work. 
I accepted their call the second year, traveling mostly on the tow-path 
of the Wabash and Erie canal, breathing the miasma of that malari- 
ous country. My health failed; I had chills and fever in abundance, 
I gave up the work, and was called to the care of the church at 
Wabashtown, where I labored, in all, about seven years. I also 
devoted a portion of my time to other country churches. Seeing the 
great want of our Baptist literature being placed in the hands of our 
people, I recommended a brother who, I thought, a suitable man for 
a colporteur to the Baptist Publication Society at Philadelphia. 

I wished very much that our books and tracts might be distributed 

through the country. They rejected this brother, but informed me 

that if I would accept an agency for them, they would employ me. 

I might preach for the two churches that I was engaged with, and 

4 



50 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

spend the rest of my time for them, and they would pay me two 
hundred dollars out of the sales on books, as a brother, Bacheldor, 
of Lynn, Massachusetts, would pay into their treasury two hundred 
dollars a year for my support ; and I must report to him quarterly. 
I accepted their offer, and engaged in the work I always loved. 

At the end of the first quarter, I reported to Brother Bacheldor, 
and he sent me an extra draft of twenty-five dollars, and told me 
not to tire in the good work. It would tell for good in our earthly 
Zion, long after he and I would be lying low in the earth. He said 
to let him know when I wanted more money. The two hundred 
dollars from the two churches, and two hundred dollars out of the 
sale of books, besides a goodly number of marriage fees, together 
with presents other ways, afforded us a very good living. 

During this time both of our daughters were married ; the eldest 
to James Brownlee, of Marion, Grant county; the other to J. D. 
Cassatt, of Wabash county. 

In the winter of 1849-50, our youngest daughter, Emma J., who 
was married to Hon. J. D. Cassatt, died, as we humbly trust, in the 
triumphs of living faith, on the twenty -fourth day of January, 1850. 
Her husband, at the time of her sickness, was a member of the State 
Senate, which was in session at Indianapolis. He was telegraphed 
for, and just reached home about six hours before she died. She 
was anxious to see him before her death. 

She left a little girl baby, only nine days old. She called us all 
around her dying bed, and, after giving evidence of her acceptance 
with God, she committed her babe to the care of her gcand-parents, 
charging them to bring her up in the nurture and admonition of the 
Lord. She then requested a pledge from the babe's father never to 
take her from them ; which pledge he has kept sacredly to this day. 
She now seemed to have put her house in order, and, turning her 
dying eyes upward, she exclaimed — 

" Bright angels beckon me away, 
And Jesus bids me come ! " 

■ In a very short time death's iron gate was passed, and she had 
gone home to Glory. 

After we returned from the burial, all was sadness — and gloom 
seemed to pervade all nature. 

Such was the effect upon Mr. Cassatt, it was thought best for him 
to travel. He and my only son, William, commenced an overland 
trip to California. They set out early in the spring of 1850, and the 
last we heard of them was at Fort Laramie. Cassatt had the chol- 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 51 

era, and this detained them. We heard no more of them until Feb- 
ruary, 185 1. It was published in the county paper of Wabash that 
they were lost, and never got through. The citizens kindly took 
such measures as would keep me from a knowledge of this news. 

The year of 1850 was an awful time of trial to me. But to pro- 
ceed with my history : 

My eldest daughter, who had ever been my idol, lived about twen- 
ty miles south of Wabashtown. She had a hard spell of measles, 
which settled on her lungs, and brought on a speedy consumption. 
As there was none left of our family but myself, wife, and the little 
babe previously spoken of, James Brownlee persuaded us to go to 
his house in Marion to spend the summer ; and, as our daughter's 
health was so precarious, we consented. While there we received 
from him all the kindness and sympathy that could have been 
bestowed by a loving, christian husband to our daughter, and a 
kind friend to us all. 

This arrangement gave me much trouble to fill my appointments 
for preaching, but I thought it was the best I could do. 

In the month of July Mrs. Townsend and the little babe were both 
taken sick ; my daughter was still lingering with confirmed consump- 
tion, and must soon die. I thought it best to take my wife and babe 
home, and did so, as soon as they could bear the travel. By putting 
a bed in the wagon and driving slowly, we reached home safely. 
With the assistance of a good hired-girl, and good medical attention, 
they both slowly recovered. 

I was frequently sent for to come to Marion ; and sometimes, when 
I was half-way between the two places, I could not tell at which end 
of the road they would be dead first. My son gone to California, 
and the probabilities against my ever seeing him again. I confess I 
was wicked as I would mentally exclaim, "my God, this is too hard." 
But His all sufficient grace would buoy me up : as I remembered my 
Saviour had suffered much more than this for me. I did not have 
the privilege of seeing my daughter die, though she expressed a great 
desire to see me once more. She gave the bystanders the evidence 
of her acceptance with God, and died with the name of " father " 
trembling upon her dying lips. 

God's providence has spared all the rest, and we have been per- 
mitted to see all our children and grand-children members of the 
Baptist Church. We all now form a family circle composed of Wil- 
liam, his second wife and five children, myself, wife, and Mary C. 
Cassatt. 



52 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

But shall we all be permitted to join that family above, where 
adieus and farewells are a sound unknown ? If so, it will be by the 
divine efficacy of the atoning blood of Jesus Christ, and not by the 
works of righteousness which we have done. 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 53 



CHAPTER XIII. 

A NEW ASSOCIATION — THE WHITE WOMAN AMONG THE 
MIAMI INDIANS. 

In the Huntington Baptist Association, there were three young 
ministers from the East, at three county-seats, that were supported by 
the Home Missionary Society. They very naturally thought they 
must make everything Eastern. Our people were not prepared for 
the change. This brought about a conflicting element, which some 
of us deeply deplored. We bore with it for years, and old Brother 
Babcock and myself, determined to bear it no longer. When, at an 
anniversary held in Fort Wayne, the minister in charge at that place 
said in a speech before the Association — 

"Brethren, we are determined to make this entire line Eastern ; " 
meaning from Fort Wayne to Logansport, along the canal. "Why 
not, they do better in the East than we do." 

I replied: " If you can pick up this canal and set it in New York, 
you are welcome to do so ; but some of us will help at that work no 
longer. Brethren, I now notify the Association, that in the north- 
western corner of this Association, Brother Babcock and myself 
intend to form a new Association, with a few of your country 
churches. We intend to go to bushwhacking." 

A brother from Hartford, Blackhawk county, said: "Brother 
Townsengd, I reckon your churches will get letters of dismission 
first?" 

"No, sir, brethren, I do hope that no church will ever ask an 
Association if they may do any thing." 

"Then," said he," Brother Townsend, does not a church stand in the 
same relation to the Association, that individuals do to churches?" 

"No, sir." 

" What is the difference ? " 

I replied : "The difference is this : God makes churches, and men 
make associations. The former is authontive, the latter voluntary, 
without authority." 



54 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

Accordingly, after giving due notice of our object, we met with the 
Wesaw Creek Baptist Church, in Miami county, and after a hard 
battle, with some sharp-shooting, we formed a new Association, called 
the Wesaw Creek Missionary Baptist Association, composed of five 
weak country churches, and two old preachers, Brother Babcock 
and myself. We were laughed at for our folly. But in the name of 
God, we set up our banner, and we did go to bushwhacking, and 
pulled together as brethren should do, with unity and identity of 
heart and soul. The Lord blessed the efforts, and added to the 
churches such as should be saved. New churches were formed. A 
number of young men were called to the work of the ministry, so 
that in two years our little Association numbered thirteen churches, 
and twelve ordained ministers, mostly raised up on the field of our 
labors. To God be all the praise. 

While thus itinerating. I was thrown among the remnant of Miama 
Indians, who numbered three hundred and twenty-five, scattered 
between Fort Wayne and Logansport, on their own reserves. From 
them I learned the following facts, in which I trace the hand of God 
in all His works. He causeth the wrath of man to praise him, and 
bringeth good out of evil. 

* b God moves in a mysterious way, 
His wonders to perform ; 

He plants His footsteps in the sea. 
And rides upon the storm. 

Blind unbelief is sure to err, 
And scan His works in vain. 

God is His own interpreter, 
And He will make it plain." 

In the year 1780, there was a little girl about six years old, by 
name, Frances Slocum, who was stolen by the Indians from Wyo- 
ming, Pennsylvania. Her father and brothers were at work from 
home. The mother, seeing the Indians approaching the house, ran 
out at the back-door, leaving the children, as she did not have time 
to hide them. The Indians plundered the house, and took whatever 
they wanted. The mother was secretly looking on ; and when 
she saw they were about to lay hands on her little boy, she rushed 
from her hiding place, and pleaded for his life. When she saw she 
could not prevail, she showed them that he was lame, and would 
only be a trouble to them. While she was thus pleading with them, 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 55 

a strong Indian laid hold of little Frances, by the ankle, and threw 
her across his shoulders, and moved off swiftly into the thicket ! 

The father and brothers came home at night. This was the last 
account the mother could give of little Frances. They all sat down 
in solemn Quaker silence. But there was a little vacant seat in the 
corner. As one and another would turn and glance at the little 
empty chair, they would burst forth in loud sobs and cries, until the 
house would ring with lamentation and wailing ! Thus, with almost 
broken hearts, they spent that sleepless night, longing for the break 
of day. 

Early the next morning, the father and brothers started out in 
search of little Frances. Days, weeks, and months rolled on. They 
searched among all the known tribes, going as far north as Niagara 
Falls. Her friends also offered large sums of money for the deliv- 
erance of little Frances, but never could hear one word about her. 

Years passed away, and they gave up the search in utter despair ! 
Years still rolled on, until time, that cures all things, had partially 
obliterated the scene from their memory. The father and mother 
had gone to their silent rest. 

Sixty years had passed away, when the celebrated Washington 
Ewing, a member of Congress, and also a trader among the Miami 
Indians, called at one of the Indian's houses to stay all night. He 
discovered an elderly white woman there. He inquired of her about 
her origin. She told him she had always refused to tell any white 
man what little she could remember ; but, as she had grown old, and 
must soon die, she would tell him. She said she was quite small 
when taken by the Indians. She remembered her first name, but 
could not tell her father's name. She said her father wore a broad 
brimmed hat. She showed one of her fingers mashed off at the first 
joint, which she said was done by her brother, on the anvil. She 
remembered the place whence she was taken was called Wyoming. 
She had been sold several times, and lived with different tribes, and 
had finally married ; raised a family ; had two daughters ; one mar- 
ried Captain Brurett, and the other Peter Bundy, both living near 
her. Of these we will speak more particularly hereafter. 

Mr. Ewing then lived in Peru, the county-seat of Miami county. 
He reached home the next night, and told the circumstances to his 
wife, and his mother, who was then living with him. The next 
morning his mother told him she had not slept that night ; and pre- 
vailed on him to write a letter, stating these facts, and direct it to 
Wyoming, Pennsylvania. 



56 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

Wyoming was only known as a river, but there happened to be a 
post-office by that name right at the place where Frances Slocum was 
stolen. The letter reached its destination ; but, being indefinitely 
directed, it was thrown among the rubbish, and there lay about one 
year, when there was an overhauling at the post-office. 

Frances' brother got hold of the letter, and knew that it must be 
his sister. He soon started to see her, came to Peru, and Mr. Ew- 
ing accompanied him to the place. They scon knew that they were 
not mistaken in each other. This was, I think, the same brother 
who had mashed off her finger on the anvil. Her brother tried to 
get her to go home with him, and live in his family. She said "no. 
Her habits were all Indian, and she could not be happy among civi- 
lized white people." She was rich, owning a section of land on the 
Mississinaway river. 

As she had no son, she prevailed on her brother to give her his 
youngest son, to be adopted according to the Indian rule, that he 
might inherit her estate, or at least get a child's portion. This young- 
est son was then a married man, and a member of the Baptist 
Church, as also was his wife. They came on, and passed through the 
ceremonies of adoption, and settled near their aunt. This son 
taught the tribe industry and economy, while his wife taught them 
the best arts of cookery. 

He also wished very much to do them good religiously, and came 
to Wabash to invite me to aid him in organizing a Sabbath-school 
among them. By his aid, and that of his amiable wife, their con- 
dition was vastly improved, and they were gradually brought under 
the influence of the gospel of Jesus Christ. The first two who pro- 
fessed religion, and united with the Baptist Church, were the two 
sons-in-law of the white woman. Before the next anniversary of the 
Association, I requested the church to which they belonged to send 
them as delegates to that body. 

They were both appointed, but for some cause, Captain Brurett 
did not go. Peter Bundy was there. I was moderator, or chairman, 
of the body. When the resolution of Temperance came up, request- 
ing the Legislature to do away with the selling of all intoxicating 
liquors in the State, Peter Bundy asked leave to speak. I told him 
that he was a member of the body, and that it was his privilege to 
speak. He then asked to speak through an interpreter, which was 
also granted. George Hunt, the Indian who had been educated by 
Colonel Richard Mi Johnson at Stamping Ground, Kentucky, was 






ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 57 

present, and he selected him for his interpreter. They arose 
together. Bundy would speak in Indian, and Hunt interpret. His 
speech was as follows : 

" I remember when my nation numbered four thousand young 
warriors. We were a happy people, until the white traders came 
among us. They, professing to be our friends, sold us fire-water. 
They also sold us pistols and bowie knives. We drank the fire- 
water, and butchered one another, until there are only three hun- 
dred and twenty-five left here on the Reserve. Now, my brethren in 
Christ Jesus, for God's sake, if you can do anything to take away 
the fire-water, do it!" 

He sat down, while many tears were shed. I immediately put the 
question, and all hands were up, to drive the monster out of the 
State of Indiana. 

I took dinner at the same house with Hunt and Bundy. Having, 
as I always had, a box of books in the church, I asked George Hunt 
whether, if I gave him a Bible, he would promise me to read it in 
his family, and to other Indians, when convenient. He somewhat 
reluctantly promised me he would. I told him when we returned to 
the church I would give him a Bible. 

While on the way to the church, Hunt and Bundy lingered behind. 
Hunt said to Bundy — 

" What shall I do ? I have promised to receive a Bible, and I have 
now got a bottle of whiskey in my coat pocket, and it won't do to 
have a Bible in one pocket and a bottle of whiskey in the other ; and 
it won't do to put them together." 

" Throw it away," said Bundy. 

He threw it over the fence into the corn-field, and I gave him the 
Bible. I was frequently among them and at their houses, and such 
were their appeals to be taught to read God's Word, that I called a 
council of churches to meet at the house of Peter Bundy, one month 
from that time, to see what could be done for them. The council 
met, and, after due deliberation, decided to build a good school- 
house, suitable also for the worship of God ; provided, that I would 
take the agency, collect funds, select the site, etc. 

I already had more on my hands than I could do justice to ; but I 
wrote to the Publication Society. They said it need not hinder my 
work with them, and the churches gave their consent. I yet par- 
leyed, I would not build with less than fifteen hundred dollars. The 
proprietor of the town of Wabash, who had been a trader among 



58 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

the Miami Indians, Colonel Hugh Hannah, urged me to the work. 
He said no one else would do it. I told him if he would give me one 
hundred dollars to start with, I would make the effort. He gave it 
to me. So I went to work and procured the fifteen hundred dollars 
on subscription, bought a beautiful site of seven acres of land, put 
the building under contract, and gave it all into the hands of the 
building committee and trustees. 

I then resumed my other business. During this time there were 
other Indians added to the church. Bundy and Brurett were 
licensed to preach, and a general revival took place among them. 
Another church was constituted. Missionaries, on their own hook, 
went to Kansas, and there preached the gospel to their brethren who 
had been sent there. Sinners were converted, and churches built up 
and established. When will the work stop ? I trust never, until the 
whole earth shall be filled with the glory of God. 

All of this work is to be traced back to the stealing of little 
Frances Slocum. Who will say that God does not often bring good 
out of evil, and make the wrath of man to praise him ? 

" God moves in a mysterious way. 
His wonders to perform ; 

He plants His footsteps in the sea, 
And rides upon the storm. 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 59 



CHAPTER XIV. 

THE TRIAL AND HANGING OF HUBBARD AT WABASHTOWN -THE 
HANGING OF AN OLD DOG BY THE BOYS. 

In the year 1855, I was called to witness another awful scene — 
the hanging of Hubbard for the murder of the French Family, con- 
sisting of the husband, wife, and five children. Hubbard and wife 
were hirelings, working on the Valley railroad, near Washington. 
French lived near where Hubbard worked; but as the winter of 1854 
and '55 was approaching, French kindly took Hubbard and his wife 
into his house until they could find shelter somewhere else. French 
was taken sick, and being much respected, the neighbors paid much 
attention to him. They sat up with him the very night he was mur- 
dered, until late bed-time. I recollect a very respectable witness sta- 
ted on the trial, that he called at the fence the next morning after the 
murder, and found Hubbard and his wife carrying a tub of bloody 
water out of the house, as though they had been butchering. He 
asked how Mr. French was ? 

Hubbard told him that a brother of Mr. French's had come there 
with a wagon and team late last night, and had taken French and 
family away ; they had gone to Wisconsin. The story was hardly 
credited, and yet no one made diligent search in the case. The 
house was a log cabin, with a puncheon floor. A large hole, or 
cellar, was dug under the floor for the purpose of keeping potatoes. 
Hubbard and his wife occupied the house, with all the furniture, 
which he said he had bought of French. Thus the entire winter 
passed away without any discovery being made. 

In the spring there was a man found in a lock of the canal, near 
by where Hubbard had lived, who had been murdered and thrown 
into the canal. Suspicion rested on Hubbard. He was arrested and 
thrown into jail. His wife came to see him, and was addmitted into 
the jail and, their conversation watched in secret by two vigilants. 
She was heard to tell Hubbard "you did murder that man." While 
he was heard to answer — 



60 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

"You were the cause of the murder of all the rest." 

She was immediately arrested, and both were locked up in jail. 

A company went directly to the house that had been occupied by 
Hubbard and his wife, broke open the door, and lifting one of the 
puncheons of the floor, found the entire French family buried 
beneath the floor. A coroner's inquest was called, and the entire 
French family identified. The trial of Hubbard and his wife did 
not come off until the fall term of the court, at which time Judge 
John McWallace presided. I had been intimately acquainted with 
him at Andersontown. Hon. John M. Pettit was appointed by the 
court attorney for the prisoners. He labored just as hard in their 
behalf, as he could have done if he had thought them innocent. 
The trial of Hubbard consumed the entire time of the court, so that 
his wife's trial was put off. She took a change of venue to Marion, 
county -seat of Grant county, which was settled mostly by Quakers, 
who were not so heathenish as to favor capital punishment. She was 
eventually sent to the State-prison during life. 

It appears that French, his wife, and little babe were sleeping in 
one bed, and four children in an other. Their skulls were all mashed 
and sunken in with a heavy instrument. 

The jury had no difficulty in finding Hubbard guilty of the mur- 
ders, although the evidehce was entirely circumstantial. The Judge, 
I knew, possessed very humane feelings, and great sympathy. In 
passing the sentence of the law for Hubbard to be hung, he choked 
up, and before he could get through, he turned his back to the audi- 
ence, and wept like a child. 

When he finished the sentence, he recommended Hubbard to 
choose me for his chaplain, which was seconded by Hubbard's 
attorney, I was seated inside the bar, and tried to be excused, as I 
was not a capital punishment man, and did not wish to witness the 
scene ; but when Hubbard came to me with sobs and tears, I con- 
sented. After accompanying him to the jail, I promised to visit him 
as often as convenient, and left him for that time. 

I think the time given him to prepare to meet his God was about 
one month. I soon visited him in jail, and found him altogether 
callous, trusting in Universalism. I endeavored to drive him from 
that false rest, and entreated him to pray mightily to God to pardon 
his sins ; that religion was a personal thing. I believe I succeeded 
in drawing hirn from that heresy, as be never named it afterwards, 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. Gl 

The next time I found him busily engaged in writing a history of 
his life, and I could not arrest his attention therefrom. He said he 
would read it to me the next time I came to see him. He was indig- 
nant at what he called his enemies, and would not forgive them. 
Among them were the jury and the witnesses. Accordingly, the 
next time I went to see him, he tried to amuse me with the history of 
his life, which was truly a novel. One circumstance I will endeavor 
to relate : 

He had been a sailor on the high seas, and when landing at Lon- 
don, England, he went to the High Church for Sabbath services. He 
was seated near a Mrs. Prince, and facing the family. Among them 
was a Miss Prince. He was enamored of her beauty, and at the 
same time he discovered the mother's eyes fixed on him with an 
anxiety he could not account for. As soon as the meeting was out, 
the mother rushed to him, and embraced him as her long-lost son ! 
She identified him, even to a certain mole on his cheek ! He knew 
better, but thought he would see what would come of it. 

Accordingly, he dissembled, and went home with the family, claim- 
ing the relationship. He found the family to be rich, with a large 
landed property. His acquaintance increased his attachment to 
Miss Prince, and after obtaining a most solemn pledge from her 
never to divulge the secret, he told her that they were not related, 
and that the mistake was all her mother's ! At the same time he 
made overtures of marriage to her, and told her that if she would 
repose confidence in him, he would carry it out in entire secresy. 

After giving her consent, he then asked her mother to set off the 
portion she intended to give him, which she did, giving him her old 
servant, Anna, to cook and wash for him. In a short time he asked 
the old lady to let her daughter come and live with him, as he was 
very lonesome, and she had plenty of company. This the old 
lady also granted. 

He then bribed the minister and old aunt Anna never to tell it 
while the old lady lived. And thus Hubbard and Miss Prince were 
duly married. The daughter often visited her mother ; but after 
awhile there was a long stay at home, and their first-born made its 
appearance in the world. And now, when it was about four weeks 
old, the old lady sent for them to visit at her house. That morning, 
before the break-of-day, they had wrapped the child up in good 
style, and directed aunt Anna to lay it at the old lady's door. (A 
custom, I am told, not unfrequent in England). 



62 REMINISCENC3S IN THE LIFE OF 

In due time the father and mother arrived, to partake of the excite- 
ment of the found child. When they were going home, the daugh- 
ter persuaded her mother to give her the child to raise, as her mother 
was too old to raise any more children. The mother consented, and 
Aunt Anna took the child home. 

Thus time passed away. The old lady died, and never knew of 
the marriage. Such was the history of this poor man, knowingly 
standing on the verge of the grave, soon to be launched into eternity. 
My efforts failed to bring him to anything like a sense of his guilt. I 
requested all the ministers of the place to visit him, and I believe 
they did. Among others was Elder Samuel Barker, from Madison 
county, Iowa, who was visiting at the time at Hon. J. D. Cassatt's. 

The Court had examined a shoe-hammer as the fatal instrument 
with which the deadly wounds had been inflicted, supposing that 
clotted blood was found where the handle entered the hammer ; but 
when Doctor Ford was called to tell the difference between the rust 
of iron and clotted blood dried to dust, he laughed, and said there 
was no difference ; so the shoe-hammer was abandoned. 

Hubbard said to me in the jail — 

"I wonder they do not think I killed him with the pegging awl." 

He said it was done with the corner of a pole-axe. I promised to 
visit him the day before his execution, and receive his history as 

written by himself, and to give it into the hands of , who had 

his two daughters in Ft. Wayne ; I also promised to see his body, 
after the execution was over, put into the coffin, and to see that the 
coffin was placed on board of the packet, to be sent to Ft. Wayne, and 

delivered to the same Mr. , for interment in the Episcopal 

cemetery. 

I was called away the day before his execution, and got Elder 
Skinner to visit him. and to receive whatever he had written to be 
given to me. The citizens of Wabash hearing that Elder Skinner 
had the document, met at the court-house and sent for Elder 
Skinner to bring it there. Finding that some of their best citi- 
zens were implicated and slandered, they committed it to the flames. 
If it had come into my hands it would have been different. I would 
have permitted them to strike out what was objectionable, as far as 
concerned themselves, but not to destroy the entire document. The 
fatal day arrived, and I pray to God that I may never see such 
another day. It was cold, with a mist of rain. I went to the jail 
early in the morning. Hubbard told me he had given his history into 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 63 

the hands of Elder Skinner, to be given to me. I found him 
dressed in a nice suit of cloth, which the county paid for. I had lost 
all hopes of fixing his mind on the Lord Jesus Christ ; so I delivered 
a faithless prayer, and the best advice I could give him. 

I looked out upon the vast crowd assembled, which was thought 
to be five thousand, three thousand of whom were not only excited, 
but they seemed to be raving maniacs, yelling, and at the top of 
their voices, saying — 

" Bring out Hubbard," etc. 

By this time Elder Skinner had joined me in the jail, much to my 
desire. The crowd had overrun the guards, and threatened to tear 
down the jail, if Hubbard was not immediately brought out. They 
had formed an idea somehow, that there might be a reprieve ; and, 
if so, they intended to take the matter into their own hands. The 
sheriff and jailor came to me to know if it was not best to proceed 
at once with the hanging. I told them I would not be responsible ; 
they must do as they thought best. The mob was still increasing, 
when Mr. Scott, the Sheriff, came and requested me to inform 
Hubbard he must now go ; which I did. 

He was sitting down smoking his pipe. He laid it down, and 
said — 

" Come, Mr. Townsend, and lead me to the gallows, for I am pre- 
pared to go. My mother had me baptized upon the high seas." 

I thought, "My God ! Somebody is accountable for such heresy 
ever entering our world ; and if my life is spared, I will be more 
faithful hereafter in meeting it." 

I took him by the hand, accompanied by Elder Skinner. We 
mounted the steps from the jail to the scaffold. This seemed to 
pacify the crowd, and silence ensued. Hubbard was asked if he 
had anything to say to the audience. He told me to tell them that 
he was not guilty of the murder of the French family, and that 
he was prepared for death. 

I grew dizzy, and told Elder Skinner to address the audience in 
behalf of Hubbard; which he did. The rope was placed around 
his neck, he was made to stand upon the trap-door, and the cap was 
drawn over his face. I then stepped up to him, gave him my hand, 
and asked him if he knew me ? He said he did. I told him to look 
to Jesus. 

I stepped one side, the trigger was sprung, and Hubbard was 
swinging below by the neck, until the doctors would pronounce him 



64 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

dead. I aimed to go down the steps, and see no more of what was 
going on ; but I became so bewildered that the sheriff from Peru, 
seeing my situation, led me to the corner of the platform, where I 
took hold of the bannister, and soon recovered sufficiently to go down 
the steps. I had resolved not to see him hanging on the gallows ; 
but when I went down the steps, I could only get my back against 
the jail door for the crowd, and then Hubbard was swinging right 
before me. 

I had to stand it until Hubbard was taken down and carried into 
the jail. The sheriff, knowing my promise, came to me to see the 
body laid in the coffin, and the lid screwed on, which I did, and the 
next day saw the coffin put on the packet for Ft. Wayne. But I was 
afterwards told there was only a log of wood in the coffin, and that 
the doctors had divided the body of Hubbard among them. As to 
the facts, I know not. 

Hon. J. D. Cassatt told me I could now form an idea of a Cali- 
fornia mob. I told him I would now leave the State. 

I had seen mad cattle in a panic, but never thought that rational, 
human beings, in a Christian land, could be induced to act so. As 
soon as Hubbard was taken away, the number of men that were 
pressing forward to obtain a small portion of the rope, to carry in 
their pockets to drive away witches, or to cure the tooth-ache, or 
something else, impelled me to wonder if I were not dreaming. That 
night, when I got home, if I looked out in the dark, I would imagine 
I could see Hubbard swinging before me. 

The next Sunday the boys of Wabash collected in the court-house 
to form a sham court, having their judge, jury, sheriff, and lawyers. 
The court being opened, the judge, or clerk, read the charge against 
an old dog for killing a cat. The prisoner was ordered into court, 
the sheriff brought him in ; and, after the merits of dogs and cats 
were fully discussed, the case was given to the jury, who soon found 
the old dog guilty, and brought in their verdict accordingly. The 
judge passed the sentence, and the boys proceeded to hang the old 
dog on the same gallows where Hubbard was hung. 

On Monday morning I went down in town, and, seeing a group of 
men collected, I went in among them, and found them discussing 
what to do with the boys. Some said they must every one be 
whipped. I told them to let the boys alone, and for them to quit 
hanging men, and the boys would quit hanging dogs ! 

I wanted it distinctly understood that, if they hung any more men, 
they would do it without me! 



ELDER T. C. TOWXSEND. 0:') 



CHAPTER XV. 

RETURN OF W. F. TOWNSEND FROM CALIFORNIA — SOME SKETCHES OF 
ELDER GEORGE CHANDLER, AS CONNECTED WITH FRANKLIN COL- 
LEGE — REMOVAL TO IOWA — CENTRAL BAPTIST ASSOCIATION. 

My son, W. F. Townsend, came home from California, having 
spent three years in that State. The last winter was spent with his 
old preceptor, Elder George C. Chandler, in Oregon. I will here say 
of Elder Chandler, that I have been with him more than I ever was 
with any other man, under various circumstances that try the hearts 
of men, and reveal their dispositions. I think I know the man. I 
always found him to be a christian and a gentleman, high-minded, 
without a Yankee trick, although he was from the Green Mountains 
of Vermont. I must say, in my humble opinion, Franklin College 
did the best work in its career while he was their President. I speak 
advisedly, having been for a time agent of that College, and know- 
ing the difficulties he had to meet. It was my business, not only to 
collect funds, but also to hunt out young men that would go to 
Franklin College and get an education — with or without money. 

I have known young men to tie up their clothes in a handkerchief, 
walk through the mud one hundred miles, and when they reached 
the College they would borrow of President Chandler one dollar and 
twenty-five cents, to buy them an axe, and work their way to an edu- 
cation — either by paying their board in a family, or clubbing togeth- 
er and building a "shanty," and working for their provisions, and 
doing their own cooking, and in some instances their own washing. 
These boys are now the men that tell upon the interests of society 
throughout the West. 

But there was another class of students, who came in the stage 
coach, with their trunks full of clothes, and their pockets full of 
money. And whether the world is better for their having lived in it, 
is very doubtful. We must make some honorable exceptions, how- 



66 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

ever, as Hon. B. F. Allen, of Des Moines, was among the latter 
class. 

In closing up my adventures in Indiana, I will say that the minis- 
ters of the gospel of Christ in the Baptist Church, were a noble 
band of brethren, regarding the interests of each other, as also the 
interests of our common Zion, without trying to supplant one anoth- 
er — each esteeming others better than himself. This is to be attri- 
buted to the lact that there was not one at that time who, by some 
one-horse school, had been dubbed with two D's. 

During the summer of 1865, Elder Silas Bailey, then pastor of the 
Baptist Church at Lafayette, Indiana, (who had been dubbed with 
two D's), delivered a course of lectures before the Ministers' Insti- 
tute of Illinois, at Upper Alton. He remarked as follows, while 
treating on the subject of Episcopacy : 

"Christ, the Head of the Church, seemed to desire no place above 
His disciples, but called them brethren. All were on a common 
level. All titles calculated to make distinctions were disallowed." 

At this point there was heard from all parts of the room — 

"What authority is there, then, for two D's ?" 

"Not a particle, in the New Testament," was the emphatic reply 
of the Doctor. 

"Why, then, do Baptist institutions bestow them ?" 

" For the same reason that the Jews desired a King," was the 
positive answer of the Doctor. " As for myself, the title was 
unsought. I did not take out a diploma. I never feel so well as 
when my brethren call me Brother Bailey." 

My son, W. F. Townsend, shortly after his return home from Cali- 
fornia and Oregon, was married to Elizabeth Shuler, on Eel river, 
Wabash county, Indiana, — a lady altogether worthy of a name in 
my family. Herself and all her family were the strictest kind of 
Presbyterians. She was strictly religious, bearing with patience, all 
her trials. They resolved, after spending one year in Indiana, to 
move to Iowa. As I also resolved to do the same thing, here was 
the sixth break-up. He was to move the first of March, 1856, and I 
was to follow in June. Accordingly we set about making prepara- 
tions, and carried out the above resolutions. 

We settled near Winterset, Iowa, placing our membership in the 
Winterset Baptist Church, while my son's wife placed hers in the 
Presbyterian Church of that place. They would alternate with each- 
other in going to their respective churches. At length, Mr. Ewing, 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 67 

the minister in charge of the Presbyterian Church at that place, 
preached a sermon on communion, making baptism a pre-requisite 
to communion. William told his wife to have the children ready 
and he would go with her next Sunday, as it was her communion 
meeting. 

She said, " I do not want to go." 

" Why," said he, " what is the matter ? " 

"I do not believe I have ever been baptized." 

He then said, " Has father been talking with you on that subject?" 

She answered, "No." 

The truth was, she had been reading Theodosia and Grace Tru- 
man. We never hid any portion of our library. 

"Well," said he, "I am going through Winterset to-morrow, and 
you go along, and stop with Mr. Ewing until I return. Perhaps he 
can satisfy you on that subject." 

She did so ; but it only resulted in the confirmation of her recent 
views. At the next Baptist Church meeting in Winterset, she offered 
herself for membership, related her Christian experience, and was 
unanimously received. The next day, in the presence of a large 
asssmbly, she was buried with Christ by baptism, in Middle river, 
and went on her way rejoicing in Christ her Saviour. Of her Christ- 
ian character, much more might be said. Suffice it to say, she lived 
an exemplary life, and died in full assurance of faith, and hope of 
a blessed immortality. She left a husband and six small children 
to combat a while longer with this ungodly and sinful world. The 
little babe soon joined its mother in glory. The remaining five are 
all members of the Baptist Church. 

My son and myself as neither of us had money enough when we 
came to Iowa, to buy a farm such as we would like to live on, put 
our money together, and have been halvers in real estate, living 
under the same roof, but occupying different rooms, and only living 
as neighbors, each one managing his own affairs for about eighteen 
years. 

When I left Indiana, I thought I was done with the care of churches, 
but have been compelled to act as pastor until they could get one, 
though I have never felt released from my obligation to preach the 
Gospel. 

In the fall of 18156, I was appointed a delegate to the Central Iowa 
Baptist Association, which was held at Knoxville, Marion county, in 
connection with Elder Ellige, who was pastor of the Winterset 



68 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

Church. We held a very harmonious and profitable session. It 
may be said in truth, we took sweet counsel together. I there met 
with Elder Curtis, an early pioneer in Iowa, who knew by sad expe- 
rience what it was to endure hardness as a good soldier. He was a 
son-in-law of Judge Holman, of Indiana notoriety, with whom I had 
been identified in the spread of the Gospel in that State ; and especi- 
ally in bringing churches out of their anti-nomian and anti-missionary 
state in which they had been held so long spell-bound. 

When I was introduced to Brother Curtis, he said, "Townsend, are 
you the man who figured so conspicuously around Indianapolis?" 

"No, sir, I never figured anywhere." 

"Did you not live near the city, and preach all around it, and 
sometimes in it?" 

"Yes, sir." 

"O, well, I have heard Judge Holman frequently speak of you." 

Finding him to be a son-in-law of Judge Holman, we were soon 
brought into quite an intimacy. 

The subject of an itinerant, to travel in the bounds of the Asso- 
ciation was before them, and I was appointed chairman of a com- 
mittee to draft a plan and report the same to the Association, to 
carry out the object. Of course I fell back on our old Hoosier plan, 
which had worked so admirably in Indiana. I advised them never 
to go in debt, but to take a collection on Sunday, and exhaust 
that and no more, until their quarterly meeting, to be held every 
Friday and Saturday before the fifth Sunday, wherever the board 
would appoint ; the board to consist of such delegates as the 
churches should select from time to time, with a solicitor in each 
church to report their contributions, this fund to be appropriated to 
the object, and no more to be expended. The Missionary was also 
to collect funds, and report at the next quarterly meeting ; and 
establish a Ministerial Conference, to be held in connection with 
each quarterly meeting, all hands to stay over the Sabbath, and take 
a collection on Sabbath for this object. Thus they would throw the 
entire responsibility on the churches. But I always failed to make them 
see it. The Association permitted other objects to take precedence. 
They, however, adopted the report in part, and appointed Brother 
Henry Warson their Missionary, without funds. Besides this they 
established a Missionary Conference, the first meeting to be held on 
the fifth Sunday in November. Brother Warson was to preach the 
introductory sermon for criticism, the meeting to be held at Des 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 69 

Moines. Accordingly a few of us met, from Winterset, Hartford, 
and Hammonsburg, Brother Warson and myself being the only 
ministers. We found warm-hearted brethren at Des Moines, but 
they seemed not to know, or appreciate the object. One good 
brother said, for the life of him he could not tell what we came there 
for. We, however, nominally proceeded to preach the sermon for 
criticism, from the text, "Nevertheless, the foundation of God stand- 
eth sure, having this seal: the Lord knoweth them that are his." 
Brother Warson having preached this sermon, criticism was called 
for, and there was universal applause bestowed upon the discourse. 
Being the oldest, I was the last one called on. I slowly arose to my 
feet, and begged to be excused, as I had entirely mistaken the 
object. I had thought the sermon was preached for criticism, but 
as it was for eulogy, I had nothing to say. I then took my seat. 

Brother Warson, good-natured gentleman as he is, said " pitch in, 
pitch in, Brother Townsend; it's a free fight." 

I then arose and said, " the first thing I have to say is, if the text 
had the small-pox, the sermon never would have caught it : they 
never were close enough together. But to be serious, Brother War- 
son, how did you get a regeneration sermon out of that text?" 

" Go on, go on, Brother Townsend, and give us an exposition of 
that text," was the universal cry. 

"Well, it is said, and I endorse it, that this text was spoken in 
reference to a very ancient custom, which is observed to this day at 
the laying of the foundation of the most important edifices. Sealed 
up in the corner-stone are the most important statistics of the nation 
— the edifice for what purpose built, and by whom, etc. Now, breth- 
ren, I thank God for this important fact, that in the foundation of 
God's spiritual building, the great truth is sealed up, that ' the Lord 
knoweth them that are his,' so that we join with the poet, and say — 

" How firm a foundation, 
Ye saints of the Lord, 

Is laid for your faith, 
In His excellent Word." 

We stayed over Sunday at Des Moines, Brother Warson and 
myself preaching, and assisting in the ordination of a deacon. 
There was no money to pay the Missionary, and I don't think he 
ever got his pay. No collection was taken on Sunday. On Mon- 
day morning we all started for home, having seen Des Moines. 



70 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

The Association at Knoxville had more strength, was more harmo- 
nious, and had more ministers and delegates. It was a better work- 
ing body than it has ever been since. The church at Pella, and other 
churches, have joined other Associations. Winterset joined the 
Northwestern Association. All of which tended to weaken the Cen- 
tral one. There is still a lamentable inefficiency in the body, which 
I pray to God to remove. 

Let me state some facts, and then let me ask why it is so. In Jas- 
per county, which is one of the central counties, densely settled, and 
the best county for land and timber in all central Iowa, with its two 
rail roads, and ten or twelve thriving towns, there are but two Bap- 
tist ministers ! Then turn to our minutes and find twelve pastors, 
and nine other ordained ministers, doing nothing, while destitution 
and waning is the almost universal cry all around us. The nine 
who are doing nothing, if the regular pastors co-operated with them 
on principles of equality, might supply all the destitution with which 
we are surrounded. 

I am reminded that there was a time when ancient Rome would 
not have a King, but would have a Consul, whom they clothed with 
more power than was exercised by a King. 

We detest Popery, while it is gaining on us yearly under the name 
of pastor ! Brethren, let us look this matter right in the face, and 
apply the remedy. I have seen it growing year after year, until the 
mole-hill is already a mountain ! Let the pastors put all the talent 
in their respective charges to work, upon principles of equality with 
themselves. " If any will not work, neither shall he eat." Those 
who are ordained, if they will not work, call a council and take 
away their credentials. Don't have them wearing the name of Bap- 
tist preachers, and doing nothing. The fields are already white to 
the harvest. Let the curse of Meroz rest upon them ! If they will 
not work for a penny a day, or an equalized proportion, let our 
motto be — 

"Sirs, ye are brethren, and God has called us with an holy calling, 
to go and work in his vineyard. Let it never once be named among 
you, or even thought of, that a preacher must be a pastor, or nobody. 
I thank God that there is a place of rest, where all his people will 
enjoy full equality, as one in Christ Jesus, and join all that blood- 
washed throng in ascriptions of praise to Him who has washed 
them in His own blood, and made them kings and priests unto God." 

But I've wandered. I was writing history. Pardon me, and I will 
return. 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 71 



CHAPTER XVI. 

CONVERSION OF M. C. C, AND BAPTISM — THE WAR OF 1860-61, AND 
OTHER INCIDENTS. 

Soon after our settlement near Winterset, I was written to by the 
pastor to come and assist him in holding a meeting of days in Hart- 
ford, which I did. With all due defference to others, I must say, in 
my humble opinion, if Hartford Baptist Church had never changed 
her pastor to this day, she would be far in advance of what she now 
is. We held the meeting about one week, which resulted in building 
and establishing the church in its most holy faith. We left them 
with a mind to work, but without any immediate conversions. 

My grand-daughter, Mary C. Cassatt, the little babe previously 
spoken of, was now eleven years old. She sought an opportunity, 
when I was alone, and said — 

" Grandpa, do you feel pretty well, now ? " 

" Only a little tired. Why do you ask that question ? " 

"I wanted you to tell me what to do; and I wanted to talk with 
you when you felt well." 

"Why, Mary Catharine, is there ever a time when you can not 
approach me on any subject ? " 

" No; but its importance is the reason why I asked you the quest- 
ion." 

"Well, what is it?" 

"While you were gone, I believe God for Christ's sake pardoned 
my sins." 

I remembered the solemn charge of her mother to us, while on her 
dying bed, to raise this child religiously ; and to think that in eleven 
years from that time she professed to be converted, overwhelmed me 
with gratitude. I told her I would talk with her to-morrow, and left 
the room. I wanted to talk with her grandmother, who had no doubt 
of her conversion being genuine. 

The next day she sought another opportunity, and related her 
entire christian experience, and then asked me what she must do ? 



72 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

I told her I could not tell. She must go to the next church meet- 
ing at Winterset, and ask them what she must do. She said — 

" You mean I must tell my experience. I never heard any one 
tell their experience, and don't know what to say." 

I replied, "I don't know what to tell you, and if I did I would not 
tell you." 

"Well, then, I will just tell them all about it." 

"That's it," said I. 

She did tell them all about it, and was unanimously received, with 
many tears. One week from that time she was baptized in Cedar 
creek, and truly arose from the liquid tomb to walk in newness of 
life. The effect produced on the occasion of her baptism, resulted 
in the conversion and addition of others to the church. 

I will now say of the brethren in Central Iowa, there are many 
warm-hearted, good brethren here, but pride, fashion, Christmas 
trees, church festivals, or revivals with some popular ministers, are 
the only occasions on which the church can be rallied. To come to 
a prayer meeting, and tell of the dealings of God with their souls, to 
pray together and for one another, to praise God in psalms, hymns, 
and spiritual songs, to hunt out our poor brethren, to relieve their 
necessities, to keep the unity of the spirit in the bonds of peace, to 
discountenance all whisperings, back-bitings, and evil talking 
against' each other — are things rarely taught, and much less 
observed. 

I thus toiled and labored on until i860, when the great rebellion of 
the South became the all absorbing theme, and so engrossed the 
minds of the people, there was little prospect of doing much on the 
subject of religion. At this time I was preaching for three churches. 
I thought it was my duty to sustain the old flag, under which I had 
suffered so much in the war of 181 2, and to sustain the best Govern- 
ment the world ever saw. I became enthusiastic in its support. 
Being called upon to do so, I preached a number of war sermons, 
with all the applause they deserved. 

Having been thoroughly drilled at Norfolk, Virginia, and having 
been Captain of a company for years in Kentucky, I was requested 
to assist in drilling soldiers for the war, especially leading recruit 
drills. But I soon found my knowledge of military tactics was of 
the olden time, under Duane, and Scott's First Method of drill. 
When I saw some recruiting officers, from the late army, drilling 
their men, I would drill no more. 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 73 

I was frequently called on to make war speeches, and always com- 
plied. Especially did 1 aid in making up two companies, and send- 
ing them to the army. One company, which I had assisted for days 
to complete their number — Mark Bandleman, Captain — was .to start 
from Carlisle on Monday. The day previous, I was requested to 
preach them a farewell sermon, which I did. They had prepared a 
stand for the occasion in the grove, and the company marched up 
to the stand with martial music, and placed their flag so that it waved 
over my head while preaching. I mainly urged upon them a prepa- 
ration for death. 

At the close of the services I was requested to publish a prayer 
meeting, to be held in the school-house th-\t evening, one hour 
before sunset, in behalf of the soldiers. I did so, and then request- 
ed all the Christians of every order present, who would pledge them- 
selves to meet every Sunday evening at that hour, to pray for these 
soldiers until their return home, to rise to their feet. I believe every 
professor present arose. I then turned to the soldiers, who were seated 
with their officers, altogether in my front ; and, after cautioning them 
not to vote as a compliment to me, I asked for all who would pledge 
themselves, to these Christians, to pray for themselves in the army 
and seek the salvation of their souls, to rise to their feet. The 
Captain and Lieutenant, and all the Company in solid mass, rose 
up. I clapped my hands, and cried out — 

" Glory to God ! Here's a Company the gates of hell cannot pre- 
vail against." 

That ground was sprinkled with many tears, while many souls 
were baptized with the Holy Ghost. God blessed the meeting with 
his holy presence ; it seemed to be holy ground. They took away 
their flag at a trail, the fife was not blown, and there was not a beat 
of the drums. All hands met at the prayer meeting, and we had a 
glorious time. There was a reflex influence, both at home and in the 
army. I soon baptized the Captain's wife, and also the Lieutenant's 
wife, and a number of others. 

I frequently received letters from the army, dating their convict- 
ions from that meeting. One young man in the army, some months 
after, said in a letter me — 

"That prayer you made in the grove is still ringing in my ears." 

Another, in a letter to his mother, said — 

" I have a class of feelings which are indescribable ! Why, moth- 
er, 1 feel all the time like there was somebody at home praying for 
me." 



74 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

The prayer meeting was kept up while I was preaching for that 
church ; and it is worthy never to be forgotten, that (although these 
soldiers were in a number of battles), no rebel ball ever touched one 
of them, during the continuance of that prayer-meeting. 

During my stay at that place, so many of the men were absent in 
the army, that those left at home had all they could do to take care 
of the remaining families. I saw clearly that I must do something 
for the support of myself and family. When necessity has called 
for it, I never murmured or repined, but would engage in some laud- 
able business most cheerfully ; and yet, I never felt my obligation in 
the least degree released from preaching the gospel, wherever God 
in his providence might cast my lot. I have thus traveled a whole year, 
and missed but very few Sundays but what I preached somewhere, 
and often through the week. So I returned to my old trade of book- 
selling, and followed it about three years, preaching almost every 
Sunday, and supporting myself and those who were with me. 

I have been told that I was doing wrong, as I was frequently quo- 
ted by brethren, who would say to other ministers — 

" Why can't you do like Father Townsend ? He preaches as much 
as any of you, and he tells us that in three years he has not received 
three dollars for preaching." 

If I have done wrong, and committed an offence thereby, I will 
say with the Apostle : "Forgive me this wrong." But I will not 
make any rash promises to change my course. 

I have also done something as agent of the Des Moines Univer- 
sity. While in this agency, I went to Palmyra to see J. W. Jones, 
the principal owner of the woolen factory at that place. I had never 
seen him, but had learned that he was quite wealthy. I found him 
among the hands in the factory, and at once introduced myself as 
an agent of Des Moines University. I said to him — 

" Now, Mr. Jones, I have come to ask you for one hundred dol- 
lars, as your contribution to that object." 

"A pretty good sum for a man living twenty -five miles from Des 
Moines. Won't a less sum do you ? " 

" No, sir. We must have that sum from you, or nothing." 

After a moment's pause, he said — 

" I will not subscribe, but I will tell you what I will do : If we are 
not burned out this winter, I will give you one hundred dollars next 
pring." 

I pulled out my blank book, and writing it down, read it. 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 75 

" Why," said he, " that is just as good as a subscription ! " 

'• I know that, sir. Is not that what you told me ? " 

" Yes," said he, laughing ; " you have got me." 

"Well, sir, that is what I came for." 

He then invited me into his store room. He had seme forty or 
fifty thousand dollars worth of goods on hand. I said to him — 

"Mr. Jones, why do you keep so many goods in this old house ? 
If you should burn out, the loss would be great." 

He said — 

" Come, tell me what you will take as an agent to go out and sell 
woolen goods for me? I don't know what you are getting from the 
University, but I will double your wages, and risk it." 

I was just about to quit the agency. I told him it would be a new- 
business, but if he was in earnest I would give it a trial. 

Accordingly, I did business for that factory three months in each 
year for four years ; for which I received one hundred dollars a 
month for selling woolen goods, and buying wool, and did more 
preaching than when at home. 

I thus realized the fulfillment of that promise, "When men for- 
sake thee, then the Lord will take thee up." If there is any one 
doctrine that I believe in more than another, my experience com- 
pels me to believe in and trust the immediate providence of God. I 
do verily believe that " all things work together for good to them that 
love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose." 
And that " Our light afflictions, which are but for a moment, work 
for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." 



76 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 



CHAPTER XVII. 

SETTLEMENT AT NORWALK — THE METHODIST CHURCH AND ITS 
MINISTERS — THE BAPTIST CHURCH — ITS ORGANIZATION. 

Having now settled in the neighborhood of Norwalk, Warren 
county, Iowa, we found ourselves entirely surrounded with one of 
the best Methodist Churches I ever knew. They were liberal, high- 
minded brethren, who always treated me with the utmost Christian 
courtesy. By their request, I frequently preached for them, filling 
appointments for their preachers at different points, and aiding them 
in protracted meetings; as also in their Sabbath-schools. They 
readily accepted the "Young Reaper" in their schools, which I paid 
for; and I will here add, their preachers have been a noble set of 
brethren, with whom I have labored with the utmost harmony, with 
a single exception, up to this time, for about twelve years. 

Finding there were a few Baptists scattered over a large territory, 
I endeavorsd to rally them. I find the following record of the first 
Baptist movement in the vicinity of Norwalk : 

"After a series of meetings held in the Norwalk school-house, during 
the winter of 1866, by the Methodist preacher in charge, Brother 
Murphy, assisted by Elder T. C. Townsend the meeting resulted in 
much seriousness, and we trust, in much good to the cause of re- 
ligion ; at which time Elder T. C. Townsend established a regular 
monthly Baptist meeting, held in the Norwalk school-house, on the 
fourth Sabbath in each month, which time has been observed ever 
since by the church for their monthly meetings. 

At a social meeting at the house of Deacon Solomon Perkins, Jan- 
uary 27, 1866, after the reading of the Scriptures, singing, prayer, 
and remarks by Elder T. C. Townsend, on the text, "Why stand ye 
idle?" the following persons had their names subscribed to the fol- 
lowing resolution : 

We, whose names are hereunto subscribed, being regular Missi- 
onary Baptists, and living remote from any church of our faith and 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 77 

order, believing it to be our duty to live for Christ in the mainten- 
ance of the public worship of God, and the Scriptural administra- 
tion of His ordinances, having, as we trust, given ourselves to the 
Lord, do hereby give ourselves to one another in a Baptist Society, 
to be hereafter constituted, if the Lord prospers us, into a regular 
Missionary Baptist Church, in the vicinity of Norwalk. For the 
accomplishment of the above object, we mutually pledge ourselves, 
with all that God has given us ; and in the name of God do we here- 
by set up our banner. 

NAMES OF MALES. NAMES OF FEMALES. 

Elder T. C. TOWNSEND, MARY TOWNSEND, Sr., 

Deacon SOLOMON PERKINS, MARY PERKINS, Sr., 

WILLIAM F. TOWNSEND, MARTHA MILLER, Sr., 
SOLOMON PERKINS, Jr., MARY C. MILLLER, 

SAMUEL T. MILLER. MARY PERKINS, Jr., 

MARY MERCONA RICHEY. 

NANCY TOWNSEND. 

Thus we lived in fulfillment of our vows for one year, when Elder 
J. A. Nash came to our help, and advised us to call ourselves a 
church, by the adoption of articles of faith, as found in the Encyclo- 
pedia of Religious # Knowledge, which we did. I then made a mo- 
tion to call Elder Nash to the care of the church. He cordially 
accepted, but told me it was nominal. He instructed me to go 
ahead in his absence ; to receive members, and baptize them, or, in 
his absence, administer at the communion. Thus I found Elder 
Nash a true yoke-fellow, without acting the Pope under the name of 
pastor. We thus toiled on, and the Lord added to our numbers, as 
we trust, such as will be eternally saved. 

In the fall of 1868, we began to agitate the subject of building, and 
small as was the prospect, we began the work. There were some 
who had a mind to help. We were laughed at for our folly ; for a 
number were ready to say, "what can these few Baptists do?" 
Even a minister of the Gospel, at our county-seat, called it a castle 
in the air, and said he had come after our money to buy a bell ; he 
was at an important point. Thus we went to work against wind 
and tide. I took the financial agency, and Deacon Solomon Per- 
kins, foreman of the building committee, made the contracts, often 
working with his own hands, and superintending the entire building. 
God blessed the labor of our hands ; and in the fall of 1869, we had 
a house in which to worship God, at a cost of about $2150. 



78 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

G. J. Johnson, of St. Louis, Missouri, preached the dedication ser- 
mon, and the remnant of indebtedness was all raised on the ground. 
Thus we have a church of about seventy members, with a comforta- 
ble house of worship ; and yet my anxieties are just as great as 
when our little twelve would meet in the school-house, and I fear 
there is not that love that existed then. 

I will only say of the Norwalk Baptist Church, my fate with them 
is only such as better men have complained of — that caused the 
Prophet to exclaim: "I have nourished and brought up children, 
and they have rebelled against me." It was the same thing that 
caused the Apostle Peter to say, with reference to the crucifixon of 
the Lord of glory — "And now, brethren, I wot that through igno- 
rance ye did it, as did also your rulers." It was a part of the Mosaic 
law, that if any sinned through ignorance, they were to be forgiven. 
The rulers were ignorant men, in regard to God's method of salva- 
tion ; and it is not to be wondered at, if financial men should aim to 
manage all the affairs of the church, in that same cunning way they 
make their dimes. But Christ's kingdom is not of this world, and 
worldly policy will never suit it. 

Norwalk and its vicinity, with its entire location, has the most 
beautiful situation, with the best soil for farming purposes I ever 
saw. All who are striving to get rich are being successful. Indeed 
the greatest objection I have to this people, is their devotion to 
this world, and its almost necessary accompaniments. True, it is 
not to be expected that an old fogy, past seventy-five years of age, 
should be adapted to this generation. But it is equally true, that I 
fail to see the principles of the Gospel altered to suit young Ameica. 

For example, when Christ has said, "A rich man shall hardly enter 
the kingdom of heaven;" and when James says, " So shall a rich 
man fade away in his ways;" again, "Do not rich men oppress 
you;" and, again, "Go to now, ye rich men, weep and howl, for 
your miseries are come upon you;" and, again, it is said, "The 
deceitfulness of riches choke the word." I confess I fail to see 
where all this is abolished, or becomes of no effect in order to suit 
Young America. 

I said in meeting a few days ago, and think I said it from the 
bottom of my heart: "I thank God I am not rich." I have a little 
homestead of sixty acres, together with eight dollars a month from 
the Government, as a pension from the War of 1812. Thankful for 
small favors in this Government of equality, where our Congress- 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 71) 

men only get double that amount per day for their services ; but I will 
not complain, as myself and wife, laden with the infirmities of age, 
want but little, and cannot want that little long. I thank God more 
especially, that Jesus has gone to heaven to prepare a place in those 
mansions above for all his faithful followers, where the wicked will 
cease from troubling, and where the weary are ever at rest ! This 
blessed hope buoys us up amidst the storms of this tempestuous 
world, and at last we may be permitted to — 

" Make the highlands of heaven, and enter the road, 
And anchor forever in the kingdorn'of God." 

I am now about to close this little history of reminiscences con- 
nected with my life. The reader cannot fail to see that it presents a 
checkered scene, but like the photograph likeness of a man's face, 
you are still left to guess at the intellectual and moral powers of the 
soul. To supply this deficiency in part, the author has concluded to 
publish a brief synopsis of his faith in Christ, together with a few 
extracts from sermons preached on important occasions, and submit 
the whole to an intelligent public. 



80 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

TEMPERANCE INCIDENTS. 

I have ever been an unwavering friend of temperance, and have 
belonged to every society which has existed for the promotion of that 
object, from the first society, which allowed its members to drink a 
little, but not to get drunk, while no man would acknowledge he was 
drunk so long as he could lie down and hold by the grass ; and yet 
it had its day, and was the harbinger of the Washingtonians, which, 
in my opinion, accomplished more for the cause of Temperance than 
any Order that has existed since that time. 

I always felt that it was a good work to persuade any man, that 
used spiritous liquors at all, to desist and take the temperance pledge 
of total abstinence. To this end, I have labored night and day, 
through heat and cold, and waded on foot through snows, nearly 
knee deep, for miles, to get to some school-house, there to lecture 
and secure all that I could to sign the temperance pledge. Being 
successful at one point, the enemy became enraged ; and, having an 
appointment to lecture at a certain school-house after night, a friend 
informed me that at a house half-way they were to meet and prepare 
to ''egg'' me that night, and he advised me not to go. I told him 
I had never been " egged," and that I would risk it. I started early, 
and, going to their place of rendezvous, I found them all there, with 
their bottles of liquor and their eggs prepared ! I put on as much 
cheerfulness as was consistent,, and when it was time to go I took 
their leader by the arm, and said — 

"Let us go." 

We thus walked together. They did not take the eggs, but they did 
take the bottle, and passed it around while I was speaking ! I 
escaped the "egging," and obtained some names to the pledge. 

While living at Andersontown, the subject of Temperance had 
never been presented at that place ; and drinking spiritous liq- 
uor was almost universal. Having heard that some of our first 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 81 

citizens were in the regular habit of visiting a certain saloon for their 
morning dram, and also in the afternoon and at night, I resolved to 
ascertain the facts, and made an errand to get some money changed 
at that house. Early one cold morning, I entered the saloon, and, 
after getting my bill changed, the bar-keeper politely invited me to 
take a seat by the fire. The room was neat and comfortable. I 
thanked him, and took a seat fronting the liquor, with all the differ- 
ent kinds glowing in their different bottles. I sat by the fire, appar- 
ently enjoying myself. The gentlemen soon began to come in. 
They stood up, for they were not in the habit of sitting there. They 
would look at each other, and then look at me, until tired of waiting ; 
at length one of them said — 

" Townsend, this is no place for you ! " 

I replied, "Gentlemen, I presume this is a decent place, or you 
would not be here." 

I still sat at my ease. Some did leave without their bitters ; oth- 
ers, farther advanced in the downward road, rushed up to the bot- 
tles, and, as the drinking became general, I left without saying a 
word. 

Soon after this, a certain Justice of the Peace, a 'Squire Sharp, 
who was a Quaker, came to me in much distress of mind, and 
said — 

" Friend Townsend, I want you to help me. You have no idea 
how far along the drunkard's road I've gone ! I never can return 
without help !" 

"Why, 'Squire, what can I do for you ?" 

He said, " Get up a Temperance Society, I will sign the pledge, 
and then my friends will not ask me to drink." 

Accordingly, I made an appointment on a certain night to deliver 
a temperance lecture in the court-house. At this time we organized 
a temperance society, with twenty-five or thirty members. I then 
gave out that I would lecture again one week from that time, which 
would be on Tuesday night. It was Circuit Court week, Judge Kil- 
gore presiding, who, when Court adjourned, announced the meeting, 
and said he would attend. Deacon Blacklidge came down to inform 
me that the Judge and all the lawyers would be out. He asked me 
if I was prepared ? I replied — 

"No. I had only calculated to make a Washingtonian speech, 
not caring whether I began in the middle or at either end. But I'll 
tell you, deacon, what you do, without failure : as soon as the meet- 
6 



82 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

ing is called to order, you second my motion, and I'll get out of that 
snap ! " 

At the hour, the house was crowded, and the President called the 
meeting to order. I immediately arose, and said — 

"Our meeting coming on in the time of Court, it is expected that 
gentlemen of the Bar will address us. I therefore move that Judge 
Kilgore, Mr. Fletcher, and Mr. Quarls, of Indianapolis, be called on 
to address us on the pressent occasion." 

This was seconded, put to vote, and carried. Mr. Quarls, who 
sat nearest the door, took the shoot and left ! The Judge also started 
to go, but Mr. Fletcher caught him by the arm, saying — 

" Come, Judge, no running ! Be a man, stand up to the work, 
and I will back you." 

Drawing him to the stand for speaking, the Judge addressed the 
audience thus — 

" Ladies and gentlemen, I cannot be a hypocrite ! I am in the 
habit of taking my glass. I have this day drank liquor in yon 
saloon. It is, therefore, inconsistent for me to make a temperance 
speech." 

There was a loud groan through the house. After a long pause 
he said — 

" I will here confess that it was wrong. (And after another long 
pause), I will here promise to do so no more ! (And after another 
pause), I will further promise never to drink another drop." 

I almost shouted, saying — 

" The Judge has taken the pledge. Go on Judge, now you can 
make a clear breast of it." 

He did go on, and did make a clean breast of it, in good, Wash- 
ingtonian style ! 

Mr. Fletcher followed, and we added about forty names to the 
temperance pledge that night. 

When we moved back to New Bethel, we organized a Washingto- 
nian Temperance Society, which accomplished much good. There 
was a certain blacksmith, by the name of Dennis, who said he would 
whip me for saying, "they that would drink liquor would steal ! " I 
had an errand at his shop, and always went where business called 
me. He soon introduced the subject, and told me his threat. I said 
to him — 

" Hold on, Dennis, if I don't prove by you all that I said, then I 
will take the whipping — that is, if you are a better man than I am ! 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 83 

Look here, I did not mean that you would steal money. I should 
have no fears to leave one dollar, or five dollars, lying on your shelf 
here in the shop, and tell you to let it lie until I came for it, if it was 
a week. But, now suppose I put a bottle of good old Bourbon 
whiskey there, and tell you I will call for it after awhile. You are 
at work here in the shop, and get very dry, while the bottle is spark- 
ling before you. What would you do ? " 

He paused a moment, and said — 

" If you want your whiskey drank, bring it out ! " 

This ended that whipping. 

After my removal to Wabashtown, the excitement all turned in 
favor of the Sons of Temperance. Well, I thought, whatever will 
promote the object best, I will go in for it. So I joined the Sons of 
Temperance ; and after filling several offices, as soon as the office 
of chaplain was vacant, I was elected thereto, and held it during 
my residence at that place, in which time the Presbyterian minister's 
wife died, and we were called upon to attend to the funeral services, 
agreeably to the Order. We met in the division-room, and, after 
drilling in the performance of our several parts, came down to 
march to the house of the deceased. It was a good time for the 
merchants to sell black, especially black crape, and black kid gloves. 
Of course, it was my lot to march in front, carrying a large open 
Bible, and perform the principal services at the house, as also at the 
grave. The services being over, I thought we would be dismissed ; 
but we were ordered in procession to escort the minister to his dwell- 
ing. We did so ; and when the center of the procession arrived 
opposite his dwelling, we were ordered to halt, and front the house, 
when the minister stepped out, and pulling off his hat, waved his 
hand, and thanked the procession for their kind attention. While I 
was in thought, there was a general response of feeling, as much as 
to say, "Well, boys, have'nt we had a grand time burying the min- 
ister's wife ?" 

As soon as I had an opportunity, I told them "I had no objection 
to marching ; I love it ; I was drilled in the army, and if you will 
get up a muster, I will join you; but this is the last funeral process- 
ion that I will ever march in." 

Not long after this, the Free Masons made application to me to 
know if I would be chaplain for them. A great man was coming 
from La Fayette to make a speech. I think they said it was St. 
John's day, or some other day ; at any rate it was about the twenti- 



84 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

eth of June. I told them it would depend on what they wanted me 
to do. They said they wanted me to march in their procession, to 
carry an open Bible, and pray for them when we reached the stand. 
I told them, as it was not a funeral, I had no objection to marching; 
and as for carrying the Bible, it was my business. As for praying for 
them, I had no doubt but they needed it ! So 1 complied, and was 
twice Chaplain for the Masons. 

On one occasion, when they met in Lodge to make arrangements, 
I went up with them ; and when we came down there was a good old 
Baptist, who was a very strong anti-Mason, and who had previously 
asked me if I was a Mason. I had told him I was not. He, seeing 
me come out of the lodge with them, called a witness, and said — 

" Now, let him deny it, and I'll prove it on him ! " 

So they thought they had me. I expected to be "churched ;" but 
escaped. 

To return to the Division of the Sons of Temperance. They 
accomplished a great amount of good. On one occasion I had pre- 
sented the name of an individual, and on the night of his initiation, 
I went by for him ; and as it was dark, when passing a saloon the 
keeper came out, and, catching him by the arm and jerking him in 
the house, he slammed to the door ! I had to go on without him. 
When the Division was opened, I reported the case ; when two big, 
strongmen volunteered to go and bring him into the ante-room. 
They did so, but reported him too drunk to be initiated ! I moved 
the suspension of the rule, so that we might proceed to his initiation. 
We did so. And, as soon as he was initiated, I reported him a sick 
man, who needed two nurses that night ! There was quite a laugh 
at the idea, but it took, and the two who brought him set up with 
him, reporting him a well man the next morning. He never was 
known to drink liquor afterwards. Such is the power of the pledge, 
and friends to help him keep it. 

While preaching for the church at Carlisle, there was organized a 
Good Templars' Lodge, I had thought that I would not follow up 
secret organizations any further ; but learning from Esq. Chatman 
the state of that place previously, I learned that he had cleared up 
quite a hazel-brush thicket, interspersed with plum and other shade 
trees, which were between his residence and town. It had been the 
Sunday resort of the people of that place to drink whiskey, play 
cards, and gamble, on the Sabbath. The ground in places, was 
literally covered with broken bottles, lost cards, and considerable 
money, which had been lost in their drunken sprees ! The old man 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSEND. 85 

who used to sell them whiskey, was still living there. He had made 
himself rich at the business, and was now like an " old bear with a 
sore head," all the time growling, and longing for the good old times 
to come back. Of course he declared an exterminating war against 
the Good Templars ; and when they drew the line, they counted my 
name with the whiskey gang ! I thought I could not stand that, so I 
joined the Good Templars. 

They did a good work at Carlisle. And when the Methodist min- 
ister, Brother Murphy, came on to the Norwalk Circuit, and lived in 
the parsonage at Norwalk, in consultation with him in regard to the 
peculiarities and morals of our neighborhood, I asked him if he 
knew that three of his near neighbors were drunkards ? We then 
consulted in regard to our duties on that subject ; and, as the Good 
Templars were popular, we resolved to form a Lodge in an upper- 
room in my house. With the assistance of others, we did so, and for 
a time accomplished much good for the cause of Temperance 

I was soon elected Deputy, and conducted the correspondence 
between this Subordinate Lodge and the Grand Lodge, and the next 
fall I was sent to the Grand Lodge as a delegate, was initiated into 
that body, and saw the elephant ! After my return our Lodge still 
grew, and our hall became a splendid place as a resort for young 
people. As I was an old man, setting up of nights did not suit me ; 
so J withdrew, and let the young people run it, until they run it 
through ! I will conclude by saying the good accomplished was 
worth all the effort made. 

And now the cause of Temperance seems to have fallen into the 
hands of women. I can but wish them success, and yet I fear they 
are making a desecrating use of the solemnity of prayer to Almighty 
God, but hope I maybe mistaken ; and that the cause of Temperance 
may be onward in its march, until those streams of pollution shall 
be dried up throughout the world, and the gospel of the Son of God 
have better access to the hearts and consciences of men and women, 
and the triumphs of our Redeemer's Kingdom break in pieces all 
other kingdoms, and fill the whole earth with praise to Him who has 
washed us in His own blood, and made us kings and priests unto 
our God. I confess my only hope is in the triumph of the Cross. 
Christ said, "Make the tree good, and its fruit will be good also." 
This fact is as philosophical as it is theological. The wild crab must 
be cut down, and a new graft inserted, in order to bring forth good 
fruit. So the sinner must be cut down, and stripped of his self- 
righteousness, in order to be grafted into Christ, the true Olive? 



86 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 



CHAPTER XIX. 

MURDER OF PETER VORIES. 

In an early day in the settlement of the country around Indian- 
apolis, Peter Vories, son of John Vories, Pleasant Hill, Mercer 
county, Kentucky, and brother to Frank Vories, who was manager 
so long for the Shakers at Pleasant Hill, was about thirty years of 
age, and well educated. He was a man who read much, and finally 
embraced the religious views of Emanuel Swedenborg. He became 
dissatisfied with the Shakers, and left them. His father lived with 
the Shakers, with exclusive privileges. He never put all his money 
into the Shaker treasury ; and when Peter left, he gave him a good 
outfit. 

Peter came over to Indianapolis, and entered the most beautiful 
quarter-section of land in reach of the city. He improved it in good 
Shaker style, keeping batch in his own house. In a few years he 
was making money. His farm was stocked with the best of animals, 
and it was thought he had a big pile of money. He was very fond 
of company, and people frequently visited him, on account of the 
good it seemed to do him. He was passionately fond of argument, 
and the man who surpassed him had to be well posted. 

On a certain night, he was murdered in his own house, and the 
house set on fire! Doubtless the murderer thought to get more 
money than he did. Peter's remains, together with all the contents 
of his house, were consumed. His heart was the only fleshy part to 
be found, which, together with the bones, were gathered up, and put 
in a coffin and buried in the cemetery at New Bethel. 

I then lived three miles from him. The near neighbors collected 
while the house was burning, but too late to save anything. As he 
was a cousin of my wife, they sent for me early that morning to take 
possession, for the time, of the farm and all its contents. His father 
I knew, was with the Shakers, in Mercer county, Kentucky. I im- 
mediately wrote a letter, stating the facts, directed it to his father 



ELDER T. C. TOWNSENI). 87 

and, after making the usual black sign of death, requested the post- 
master to send with all possible haste. 

In about nine days, John R. Bryant, the manager for the Shakers, 
came to my house and prevailed on me to administer on the estate, 
which I did, and settled it all up in about two years. I was twice at 
Shakertown, to take money, and financially settled it up satisfacto- 
rily to all parties. They paid me well for my services. 

I will say of Shakertown, it is the only place on earth that I ever 
saw, where a whole body of people dwelt together in unity and full 
identity, no man claiming aught of the things he possessed. I could 
not look upon anything which, by any possible expense, could have 
been bettered. Their tables were furnished with the best of pro- 
visions the country could afford, and their cookery was superior to 
that of any people with whom it was ever my lot to be. In a word, 
everything and everybody, moved like clock-work. Every man and 
every woman had their several places to fill, and they filled them 
without interchanging a word about their work. If I could have 
believed in their religion, I certainly should have been with them. 

It will be remembered that at this time I was preaching for four 
weak churches, just imerging from that anti-missionary spirit which 
had so long paralyzed the energies of the "Baptist Denomination. 
I thought I was accomplishing much, when they let me live, and 
preach the whole truth unto them. Hence I do believe every dollar 
I received from any source, was from the Lord. I have abundant 
reason, not only to believe but to trust, alone in His providence 
who will provide. 

In the summing up of my entire career in this life, I find that I 
have gone through the world slowly, and have never set the river on 
fire at any point, which may, for aught I know, be in part the reason 
why God permits me to be so long in it. I find that I have been 
preaching the Gospel, as best I could, for about forty-five years ; 
have been ordained forty years. From that time to the present, I have 
had the care of twenty-two churches, and have baptized about four 
hundred persons. The most I ever baptized at one time, was forty- 
eight, assisted by Elder E. B. Smith, being the result of one week's 
meeting. I have solemnized the marriage tie between about one 
hundred and fifty couples ; have preached about three thousand five 
hundred sermons ; have received in all, for preaching, about two 
thousand five hundred dollars ; have traveled on the business of 
preaching, about twenty thousand miles, and I now feel that my obli- 



88 REMINISCENCES IN THE LIFE OF 

gation to preach the Gospel as obligatory as ever it was, and will be 
so while God permits me to be here. I trust that when my work is 
done, God will take me home. I am far from claiming perfection, 
but can only say with the Apostle, " I am what I am," and trust 
alone in the blood that cleanseth from all sin. I do hope that my life 
may yet be spared to see his cause more prosperous ; when broth- 
erly love shall fill every heart, and flow from breast to breast, and 
unitedly ascend to the throne of God, and to the Lamb who has 
washed us in his own blood. There is surely a higher state of 
religion which awaits the churches of the living God. 

In closing this little history of my life, as I look back upon the 
scenes passed through I would surely acknowledge with Job that 
"man born of woman is of few days, and full of trouble ; he cometh 
forth like a flower, and is cut down ; he fleeth like a shadow, and 
continueth not." 

My entire life is a mystery to myself. Very few of my resolutions 
in regard to myself have been carried out. I have surely been 
brought by a way I knew not, and led in paths that I had not 
known. Every thought of living in the North has been repulsive to 
every feeling of my nature ; and nothing but Southern slavery could 
ever have induced me to take up my abode in a Northern climate. 
To-day I love Southern character, its freedom from intrigue, its 
promptness at all times in speaking what it thinks, its hospitality, 
and, in a word, the reliance at all times that may be placed in what 
it tells you. And yet, I have spent more than forty years in the 
North, while my entire life presents a checkered scene. I can only 
say, as one before me has said, "I am what I am," and trust the 
grace of God will be sufficient to enable me to finish my course with 
joy. I have surely fought a good fight in contending earnestly for 
the faith once delivered to the saints. And now I know I must 
shortly put off this body of sin, and trust I have a building of God 
to enter, eternal and in the Heavens, where sin can never come. 



APPENDIX 



90 FOURTH OF JULY ADDRESS. 



FOURTH OF JULY ADDRESS. 



The subject of Liberty, if not in its embryo state, is yet in its 
infancy ; and doubtless the time will come when human liberty will 
be a science in itself, sufficient to engross the most gigantic intellect 
that may be found upon the face of the earth. Three thousand of 
the first years that dawned upon the earth, passed away without its 
rays of light to cheer the weary pilgrim in his journey to the tomb. 
The government of man was then a theocrasy. God first revealed 
himself to man, and then gave a transcript of his divine moral per- 
fections upon Mount Sinai, in what has been denominated the moral 
law, or Ten Commandments. How many of these Sunday-school 
children can repeat them ? 

It is worthy of remark, and not to be forgotten, that in proportion 
as man has formed correct conceptions of the divine character of 
God his Creator, in that proportion has he been enlightened ; and in 
proportion as light has dawned upon his mind, he has everywhere 
and under all circumstances appreciated liberty. But man, in his 
fallen state, is not susceptible of the full extent of liberty ; hence the 
necessity of legislative restraint. How far that restraint should be 
exercised, and when and where it should stop, is a question that has 
puzzled our greatest political philosophers. The wisdom of our leg- 
islative authorities, employed for the good of the community, has 
thought it best to restrain those loose consciences in the abuse of 
language, and impose a fine upon the profane swearer, as also the 
Sabbath-breaker. And they have no right to complain that their 
liberties are curtailed, it being evidently for their good, as also for 
the good of a community, to restrain those vile passions, which 
result in an injury both to the individual and to a community. 

Hence, we have the enactment of the liquor law, and the establish- 
ment of the principal as a precedent to banish all nuisances, and what- 
ever results in more injury than benefit to mankind. Though it may 



FOURTH OF JULY ADDRESS. 91 

infringe upon individual liberty, yet it is an axiom around which leg- 
islative jurisprudence should ever rally. The enactment of the 
liquor law has shed a ray of light upon the science of liberty, if it be 
right to call it a science. Generations yet unborn will rise up and 
call the men who framed it, "blessed." But we said three thousand 
of the first years of human depravity passed away without a devel- 
opment of the principles of human liberty ; and when its light burst 
upon our world the morning stars sang together for joy, and the 
angels communicated the glad tidings, saying, "Behold!" etc.; 
while an innumerable company of the heavenly hosts shouted, 
"Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace and good will to 
men." 

The prophet had long before said, "The sword shall be beaten 
into the plow-share, and the spear into a pruning-hook, and the 
nations of the earth learn war no more," which facts have not yet 
come to pass ; but when human liberty is fully understood, it will 
doubtless come to pass. 

Our blessed Saviour was the first to announce, "If the Son shall 
make you free, you shall be free indeed." And there is no true lib- 
erty without this freedom. God designs to make a guilty world free 
by faith in His Son, " to set at liberty them that are bruised ;" and 
the Apostle declares, "because the creature itself also shall be 
delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of 
the children of God." The Church at Gallatia is exhorted to " stand 
fast in the liberty wherewith Christ had made them free," and also 
that designing men would come in privily to spy out their liberty. 

After the days of Christ and the Apostles, the world was wrapped 
in gross darkness. Popish superstition and bigotry, together with 
Pagan darkness, filled the world with blood-shed and carnage ! The 
saints of the most High God were persecuted, and put to death with 
most cruel torture ! They were hidden in dens and caves of the 
earth, and made to flee from one country to another. They were 
alike tortured on every hand, until about three centuries ago, God 
raised up a Luther, Malancthon, and a host of reformers, whose 
influence is still visible on every side, giving fresh life to nations, 
and creating a new era for society in general. 

This light on the subject of liberty, compared with this day, was 
only the rising of the morning star, or the day dawn, or twilight. 
Still, the relics of Popery were visible even in our pilgrim fathers, 
who instituted the bloody tenets in the blue laws of Connecticut, 



92 FOURTH OF JULY ADDRESS. 

Massachusetts, and other colonies. Men were persecuted for con- 
science' sake, until the seventeenth century, when God raised up 
Roger Williams, who was born in Wales, in 1599. He embarked 
for New England, and arrived at Boston, February 5, 1630. So as 
soon as Williams arrived in Boston, he found himself among the 
New England churches, but not of them. They had not yet 
renounced the use of force in religion ; and he could not, with his 
entire mind, adhere to churches which retained the offensive features 
of English legislation. The magistrates insisted on the presence of 
every man at public worship. Williams reprobated the law. The 
worst Statute in the English Code, he said, was to compel men to 
unite with those of a different creed. He regarded this as an open 
violation of their natural rights. 

To drag to public worship the irreligious and the unwilling, seemed 
only like requiring hypocricy. An unbelieving soul is dead in sin. 
Such was his argument ; and to force the indifferent from one wor- 
ship to another, was like shifting a dead man into several changes 
of apparel ! No one should be bound to worship, or, he added, to 
maintain a worship against his own consent. 

"What," exclaimed his antagonists, amazed at his tenets, "is not 
the laborer worthy of his hire?" 

" Yes," replied he, " from them that hired him." 

This illustrious man was the father and champion of religious 
liberty ; and, if Copernicus is held in perpetual reverence because, 
on his death-bed, he published to the world that the sun is the cen- 
ter of our system — if the name of Kepler is preserved in the annals 
of history for detecting the laws of planetary motion — if the genius 
of Newton has been almost adored for dissecting a ray of light, and 
weighing heavenly bodies as in a balance — let there be for the name 
of Roger Williams at least some humble place among those who have 
advanced moral science, and made themselves the benefactors of 
mankind. 

The principles of liberty, as conceived in the mind of this great 
man, were only developed in matters of conscience, pertaining to 
religion in his little Church and Colony at Providence, Rhode 
Island. There only, at the time, was true liberty enjoyed, free from 
religious tyranny and oppression. These principles had been ripen- 
ing until the days of the Revolution, when our fathers determined to 
shake off the yoke of British oppression, and adopt the Declaration 
of Independence, to wlijch you have been listening. 



FOURTH OF JULY ADDRESS. 93 

This is Independence Day, held in commemoration of that event- 
ful period when our liberties were asserted. All the world besides 
was under some galling yoke of oppression ! We are indebted, 
then, for the origin of these principles, to Roger Williams, until God 
raised up that great political philosopher, Thomas Jefferson, who 
declared in Congress Hall that he had learned more of the princi- 
ples of Republicanism by going to one of the model Church meet- 
ings of Roger Williams, than he ever learned in that Hall ! Here, 
then, is the foundation of that Constitution which guarantees to us 
our American liberties. May we then ever prize it as an inestima- 
ble treasure, which caused our fathers to go to the battle field, with a 
Washington at their head, and sacrifice their lives and their fortunes 
for the liberties we this day enjoy in our happy country. 

We remarked that all the world beside, except that little Colony in 
Rhode Island, after which our form of Government was modeled, 
was under oppression. Monarchy, anarchy, and confusion, yet sway 
their sceptres over much the larger portion of the globe. The prin- 
ciple of true liberty is in the Word of God, and will not be confined 
to America. 

God is turning and overturning the nations of the earth. He has 
raised up at last a Louis Kossuth, who stands forth in the power of 
his might and bids the world be free. That principle is the Word of 
God, which, bidding us " do unto all men as we would have them do to 
us," must prevail until every nation, language, kindred, tongue, and 
people, shall be brought into the enjoyment of liberty. 

The hope of our Country's liberty being perpetuated, depends 
upon the ladies more than we are aware of. The first tuition of 
children depends almost entirely upon the mother ; and it is hard to 
tell when that tuition commences, hence the necessity of female edu- 
cation on this subject. 

A certain writer remarked, "A man may ask his wife if he may be 
respected," which fact stands out in all his intercourse with society; 
and it is a well-known fact, that the earliest impressions received 
from a mother, are the last to be forgotten, even when bending over 
the tomb with old age. Hence J. O. Adams remarked, "through 
his entire life, he had not recollected of ever closing his eyes in sleep 
at night, without repeating those simple lines taught him by his 
mother, when almost an infant : 

' And now I lay me down to sleep,' etc. 



94 FOURTH OF JULY ADDRESS. 

In the year 1764, Col. Bouquet, of the English army, came to a 
part of the country where there were about four hundred children who 
had been taken captives by the Indians. He conquered their cap- 
tors, and compelled them to give up the captives. He conveyed them 
to Carlisle, Pa., to which place relatives went to claim them. Nine 
years had expired since the children had been captured. One of 
these, a little girl named Regina, who was stolen by the Indians at 
ten years of age, was brought by Col. Bouquet, together with about 
four hundred others, all of whom were seated in a long row, while 
the friends passed along the line, claiming their respective captives. 
The mother of Regina, after passing along the line, turned away in 
despair: She could not find her child. Said the Colonel, "Madam, 
you are hunting a ten-year old girl, rather than one of nineteen, now 
in Indian habiliments. What did you ever do in connection with 
her?" 

She replied, "I recollect a song we used to sing together." 

Said the Colonel, " Sing it, sing it, Madam." 

While singing the second stanza, Regina joined her mother, and 
flying to her arms embraced her mother, amid a flood of tears from 
all the by-standers. 

Hence we remarked, the hope of the perpetuation of our liberties 
much depends on correct female education. Correct principles may 
be early imbibed by posterity, from their very infancy ; for it is wor- 
thy of remark, that in proportion as our corrupt natures have had the 
ascendency in our early habits of life, in that proportion have the 
liberties of the people been endangered, and anarchy and confusion 
predominated. 

Hence it is to the mothers we look for the perpetuation of our lib- 
erties. The sparkling faces of these children to-day, testify that they 
have mothers who are not unmindful of our liberties. And, indeed, 
women have always been foremost in every good word and work. 

Look at the Temperance Reformation, The ladies have always 
been right upon that subject. They have never been the drunken 
sots who reeled in our streets, and then claimed a respectable standing 
in society. In short, fathers and mothers must act reciprocally in 
the great drama of life, to rear the tender thought, and teach the 
young idea how to shoot. 

The unholy disposition of our natures must be subdued, until that 
great sin of covetousness, and selfishness, shall give way to the pure 
principles of the Gospel ; until the happiness of each individual will 



FOURTH OF JULY ADDRESS. 95 

consist in making others happy. Mutual happiness will not ensue 
until every nation, language, kindred, tongue, and people, under the 
Heavens, shall be brought into the enjoyment of true liberty; and 
that prayer which our blessed Saviour taught his disciples to pray, 
"Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven," be verified until the 
earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the glory of God, shining 
in the face of Jesus Christ. For this, the Gospel is preached ; for 
this, children are brought into the Sabbath-school ; and for this we 
are assembled here, on Independence Day. May our convocation 
be such as shall make us mutually feel our responsibilities to one 
another, to the world of mankind, and to God our heavenly Father, 
that when we come to die, we may know that the world is the better 
for our having lived in it. 



96 DECORATION DAY ADDRESS. 



DECORATION DAY ADDRESS. 



The price of liberty is eternal vigilance. The cost to bring its 
first dawn upon the American Continent, brought to its votaries 
banishment, imprisonment, and bloody stripes at the whipping-post, 
when under the Colonial laws. Take the example of the three min- 
isters who were imprisoned in the State of Virginia, and defended 
by Patrick Henry. The charge preferred against these ministers 
was, that they had been preaching the Gospel of Christ according 
to their own mode of conscientious interpretation. Patrick Henry 
was never more at home than on this trial, and his triumph was 
never more complete, as the sequel shows. Addressing the jury in 
an impassioned manner, he said — 

"Gentlemen of the Jury, am I deaf? Do I hear aright? Do I 
hear that these defendants at the bar are arraigned, for what ? For 
committing a great crime against the laws of this land ? No, not for 
this ; but they are here arraigned on the awful charge of having 
preached the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ. Great God ! " 

This was enough. The orator sat down, and the ministers were 
acquitted amidst bursts of applause from the audience. 

See its further developments by Thomas Jefferson, when this lib- 
ty was placed at the foundation of this great Republic — that all 
men are born free, with equal and inalienable rights. See the length 
of time, the hardships, the blood, and the treasure, to establish only 
in a portion of the United States the principles of liberty, and shake 
off the British yoke of tyranny, which held its iron grasp on this 
entire country. The hard struggle with such unequal forces, against 
so powerful a nation as Great Britian, proves that nothing short of 
the Omnipotent arm of God, guided by his divine providential con- 
trol, could ever have achieved victories so signally blessed as were 
ours in the hands of our Fathers — 

" Who left their lands and tended fields, 
Where long they 'd been the owners." 



DECORATION DAY ADDRESS. 97 

Peace being now hastily declared between the two nations, there 
were some unsettled matters between them, out of which grew the 
War of 1 812, which was only a continuation of the Revolutionary 
War. Of this I was made a partaker at its close in February, 
181 5, having served a six month's term at the city of Norfolk, Vir- 
ginia, at the age of sixteen. I know what it is to suffer for the cause 
of liberty, and know by experience the truth of my motto, the price 
of liberty is eternal vigilance. 

Thus the three year's war with America, again convinced Old John 
Bull that the sceptre had departed from England, and that Young 
America must be free ! Thus they were whipped on the land, and 
whipped on the sea. Our cause was death or liberty ! Old Hickory 
Jackson did up the last job at New Orleans, and sent Packingham 
home in a hogshead of rum. 

Peace being again restored, Young America lengthened her cords, 
and strengthened her stakes, until to-day she stands a beacon-light 
to all the world ! 

The war with Mexico was next on hand — 
In favor of which I never took a stand. 
I feared it was all for booty, 
And for that cause I could see no beauty. 

The dearest price for liberty ever bought, 

Was when our boys in the late Rebellion fought, 

To rid our land from slavery's chain — 

On their country's altar their lives Avere slain ! 

They marched through all their trials sore, 
And gave their lives in bloody gore ! 
And now our duty is ever to commemorate 
Their lives, for which they met their fate. 

To strew some flowers o'er their graves, 
And trust alone in God, who saves ; 
That we may meet them in Heaven above, 
Where wars shall cease, and all is love. 

Our souls being washed in Jesus' blood, 
And we made kings and priests to God, 
Forever there with Christ to reign, 
No more on earth to suffer pain. 

To join with all the hosts above, 
To sing the chorus, " God is love !" 
United here with Christ, we stand, 
By faith we view the Promised Land. 



98 DECORATION DAY ADDRESS. 

Beyond bold Jordan's swelling flood, 

There no wars are found, but God is love. 

In such society as this, but still more dear, 

While circling time moves 'round in one eternal sphere. 

While gazing here, we are made to say — 

" Cold are the sleepers, wrapped in their shrouds, 
Pale are the weepers, the battle has bowed. 
Softly they slumber, our soldiers in death ! 
While hearts, without number, cry with hushed breath : 
Oh, God ! they are dead ! 

" Pale are the sleepers — like marble they lie ; 
Sad are the weepers — tear-stain their eye, 
Quiet they slumber, soldiers entombed ! 
While hearts, without number, all shrouded in gloom, 
Cry : Oh, God 1 they are gone ! 

" Calm are the sleepers, taking their rest ; 
Sad are the weepers, joyless their breasts. 
Softly they slumber, our soldiers, to-day, 
While hearts, without number, cry with hushed breath 
Oh, God ! they are dead ! " 



And now, dear friends, permit me to say, 
Be up and be doing, while it's called " To-day." 
The God of our Fathers, oh, worship aright ; 
Serve God and your country with all of your might. 

Take His Word for your guide ; be counseled by Him 
Who fought our battles and caused us to win. 
Our foes are numerous, they cause us to sin ; 
Put on the whole armor, and then trust in Him. 



Take the sword of the Spirit, and wield it aright, 
March to the front, show you are willing to fight. 
The hope of salvation will cause you to stand, 
Then march on to victory in Canaan's fair land. 



Your loins girt with truth, your armor all bright, 
Take the shield of faith — put your own sins to flight. 
You feet being shod with the gospel of peace, 
Praying always, and don't ever cease. 

'Tis thus God designs to conquer the world, 
And all Satan's darts on his own head be hurled ! 
The millennial glory will then usher in, ^ 

And we shall be free from the confines of sin. 



DECORATION DAY ADDRESS. 

Oh, glorious day ! when man's love to man 

Is such as described in God's gracious plan. 

The whole earth will be filled with the glory of God, 

And man's love to man as described in His Word. 

Oh ! happy, happy, happy day, 
When sin will all be done away. 



Lc'fC. 



100 THE AUTHOR'S CREED. 



THE AUTHOR'S CREED. 



In presenting the following summary of the author's faith, he 
would not be understood as publishing a faith for others. Neither 
would he be understood as claiming originality in the formation of 
these articles. We are commanded to inquire for the old paths, and 
to walk therein. I have copied mainly from an old manuscript, 
about two hundred years old, published by our ancient Baptist 
Fathers in England and Wales, making such alterations as would 
present the author's faith in respect to the most important points in 
the doctrine of the Gospel of the Son of God. We are told they are 
church laws, while we repudiate all earthly law making power for the 
church. We agree with all Christians, that Christ has given in His 
Word all the laws necessary, both for the faith and practice of all 
His followers ; but while one says a certain law is abrogated, another 
says it is in full force. One says a certain law means one thing ; 
another says it doesn't mean that at all, but it means something else. 

It, therefore, becomes necessary to give an expose of our views of 
the laws of Christ. For this purpose, and this only, Baptists have 
always given to the world a declaration of their faith in Christ : and 
to this end, the author has thus drawn up the following synopsis of 
his faith, in order that it may be seen long after his body shall have 
moldered in its mother earth, trusting that it will be compared by 
the Word of God. If according to that, it will be received ; if not, 
attribute it to an error of the head, and not of the heart. 

god's decrees. 

God hath decreed in himself from all eternity, by the most wise 
and holy counsel of His own will, all things whatsoever comes to 
pass in his own works. Man was made a moral agent, which is 
abundantly manifest in the fact that God gave to him a law. He did 
not make him a machine, merely to act as he was acted upon, and 



THE AUTHOR'S CREED. 101 

yet God foresaw the wickedness of man. He foresaw that most 
wicked act ever committed on this earth, the crucifixion of our Lord 
Jesus Christ ; and his determinate counsel overruled that most wicked 
act so as to make it result in the greatest possible good to all people. 
So that we are compelled to believe in the sovereignty of God, and 
also to maintain equally the agency of man, believing there is per- 
fect harmony between the two. Thus we are compelled to believe 
in the doctrine of Election and Predestination. First, because they 
are both abundantly found in the Bible ; and, secondly, no flesh 
living could be saved without them. As God hath appointed the 
elect unto glory, so he hath by the eternal and most free purpose of 
His will, foreordained all the means thereunto, wherefore they who 
are elected, being fallen in Adam, are redeemed by Christ ; are effect- 
ually called unto faith in Christ, by his spirit working in due season ; 
are justified, adopted, sanctified, and kept by his power, through 
faith unto salvation. Acts, 2:23; Jonah, 46 : 10 ; Eph., 1 : 1 1 ; Heb., 
6:17; Rom., 9: 15-18 ; Acts, 4:27; Eph., 1 : 3-4-5 ; Acts, 15:18; 
I Tim., 5:21; Thes., 5:9; Peter, 1 : 2 ; Rom., 8:30; II Thes., 
3:i3- 

FREE -WILL. 

God hath endowed the will of men with that natural liberty and 
power of acting upon choice that it is neither forced, nor by any neces- 
sity of nature, determined to do good or evil. Man, in his state of 
innocence, had freedom and power to will and to do that which was 
good, and well-pleasing to God, but yet was mutable, so that he 
might fall from that state. 

Adam, by his fall into a state of sin, hath wholly lost all ability of 
will to any spiritual good accompanying salvation. So as a natural 
man, being altogether averse from that good, and dead in sin, is not 
able by his own strength, to convert himself, or to prepare himself 
thereto. Col., 1:21; Gal., 5:17; John, 16:8; John, 1:18. 

CREATION. 

In the beginning it pleased God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, 
for the manifestation of the glory of His eternal power, wisdom, 
and goodness, to create, or make, the world, and all things therein, 
whether visible or invisible, in the space of six days, and all very 
good. After God had made all other creatures, He created man, 



102 the author's creed. 

male and female, with reasonable and immortal souls, rendering 
them fit unto that life to God, for which they were created, being 
made after the image of God in righteousness and true holiness, 
having the law of God written in their hearts, and power to fulfill it : 
and yet, under a possibility of transgressing, being left to the liberty 
of their own will, which was subject to change. II Peter, 1:3; Luke, 
10:20; Romans, 11:33; John, 1:1-5; Genesis, 1:27; Genesis, 
2: 1-2-7; J°hn, 19:11; Ephesians, 1:11. 

DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 

God, the good Creator of all things, in His infinite power and wis- 
dom, doth uphold, direct, dispose, and govern all creatures and things, 
from the greatest even to the least, by His most wise and holy provi- 
dence to the end for which they were created, according unto His 
infallible foreknowledge, and the free and immutable counsel of His 
own will, to the praise of the glory, wisdom, power, justice, infinite 
goodness, and mercy. The almighty power, unsearchable wisdom, 
and infinite goodness of God, so far manifest themselves in His provi- 
dence,that His determinate counsel extended itself even to the first fall, 
and all other sinful actions of men, which, also, He most-wisely and 
powerfully boundeth, and otherwise ordereth and governeth, in a 
manifold dispensation to His most holy ends : yet so as the sinful- 
ness of their acts proceedeth only from the creatures, and not from 
God, who being most holy and righteous, neither is, or can be, the 
author or approver of sin. As the providence of God doth in gen- 
eral reach to all creatures, so after a more special manner, it taketh 
care of His Church, and disposeth of all things to the good thereof, 
and is to be as well understood by the chastisement of His people 
for their sins, as it is by their prosperity. "All things work together 
for good to them that love God — to them who are the called accor- 
ding to His purpose." Genesis, 3:6-2-17; Heb., 1:3; John, 19:11; 
Math., 10:26-30-31; Eph., 1:11; Acts, 2:23; Romans, 19:20-21 ; 
Daniel, 3 : 27 ; Romans, 1 1 : 32-33-34; John, 2:16; Romans, 1 : 24- 
25; Deut., 2:30; Psalms, 80: 1 1-1 2; Peter, 2:7-8. 

FALL OF MAN — SIN AND PUNISHMENT. 

Although God created man upright, and perfect, and gave him a 
righteous law, which had been unto life had he kept it, and threat-. 



THE author's creed. 103 

ened death upon the breach thereof; yet man did not long abide in 
this honor: Satan using the subtilty of the serpent to seduce Eve, 
then by her seducing Adam, who, without any compulsion, did wil- 
fully transgress the law of his creation, and the command given 
unto them, in eating the forbidden fruit, which God was pleased, 
according to His wise and holy counsel to permit, having purposed 
to order it to His own glor\. Our first parents, by this sin, fell 
from their original righteousness and communion with God, and we 
in them, whereby death came upon all — all becoming dead in sin, 
and wholly defiled, in all the faculties, and parts of soul and body. 
From this original corruption, whereby we are utterly indisposed, 
disabled, and made opposite to all good, and wholly inclined to all 
evil, do proceed to all transgressions. Romans, 5: 12-19; *• Cor., 
15:21-22-45-49; Psalms, 51:5; Job, 14:4; Ephes., 2:3; Romans, 
6:20-12; Heb., 2:24; I. Thes., 1 : 10; Romans, 8:7; Colos., 1 : 21 ; 
I. James, 1 : 14-15; Math., 25:19; Romans, 7: 18-23; Ecles., 7:20; 
Romans, 7 : 24-25 ; Galatians, 5:17. 

god's covenant. 

The distance between God and the creature is so great that, 
although reasonable creatures do owe obedience unto Him as their 
Creator, yet they could never have attained the reward of life but by 
some voluntary condescension on God's part, which he has been 
pleased to express by way of Covenant. Moreover, man, having 
brought himself under the curse of law, by the fall it pleased the 
Lord to make a Covenant of grace with Jesus Christ, wherein pro- 
vision is made for all that believe. This Covenant is revealed in 
the Gospel, first of all to Adam in the promise of salvation, and 
afterwards by farther steps, until the full discovery thereof was com- 
pleted in the New Testament. And it is in that Eternal Covenant, 
which was between the Father and the Son, about the redemption of 
the Elect : and it is alone by the grace of this Covenant that all the 
posterity of fallen Adam, that ever were saved, did obtain eternal 
life and blessed immortality, man being now utterly incapable of 
acceptance with God upon those terms on which Adam stood in his 
state of innocency. Luke, 17 : 10; Job, 35 : 7-8 , Gen., 3 ; 17 ; Gal., 
3:10; Romans, 3:20-21; Romans, 853; Mark, 16 : 15-16 ; John, 
3:16; Gen., 3:15; Heb., 1:1; II. Timothy, 1:9; Titus, 1:2; 
Heb., 1 : 6-13 ; Romans, 4 : 1-2 ; Acts, 4:12; John, 8 : 56. 



104 THE author's creed. 



CHRIST THE MEDIATOR. 



It pleased God, in His eternal purpose, to choose and ordain the 
Lord Jesus, His only begotten Son, according to the covenant made 
between them both, to be the Mediator between God and man ; the 
Prophet, Priest, and King, Head and Saviour of His Church, the 
Heir of all things, and Judge of the world ; unto whom He did 
from all eternity give a people to be His seed, to be by Him re- 
deemed, called, justified, sanctified,, and glorified. The Son of God, 
the second person in the Holy Trinity, being very and eternal God, 
the brightness of the Father's glory, and the express image of His 
person, of one substance and equal with Him who made the world, 
who upholdeth and governeth all things He hath made, did, when 
the fulness of time was come, take upon him man's nature, with all 
the essential properties and common infirmities thereof, yet without 
sin, and was made of a woman of the tribe of Judah, of the seed of 
Abraham and David, according to the Scriptures ; so that two whole, 
perfect and distinct natures, were inseparably joined together in one 
person, which person is very God and very man, yet one Christ, the 
only Mediator between God and man. Isaiah, 42 : i : I. Peter, 1:9-10; 
Acts, 3 : 22 ; Heb., 5 : 5-6 ; Psalms, 2:6; Luke, 1 : 33 ; Ephes., 1 : 23 ; 
Heb., 1:2; Acts, 17:31; Isaiah, 52 : 10 ; John, 17:6; Romans, 8:3; 
Heb., 2 : 14-16-17 ; and 4:15; Luke, 1 : 27-31-35 ; Romans, 9:5; 
I. Timothy, 2 : 5 ; Psalm, 14:7; Acts, 10:38; John, 3:34; Col., 2:3. 

JUSTIFICATION. 

Those whom God calls, He also freely justifies from all things, 
from which they could not be justified by the law of Moses, their sins 
being pardoned through the atoning blood of Jesus Christ, God im- 
puting Christ's active obedience unto the whole law, and passive 
obedience in His death, for their whole and sole righteousness, they 
receiving and resting on Him, and His righteousness by faith, 
which they have not of themselves : it is the gift of God. Christ, by 
His obedience and death, did fully discharge the debt of all those 
that are justified; and did, by the sacrifice of Himself, in the blood 
of His cross, undergoing in their stead the penalty due unto them, 
make a proper, real, and full satisfaction to God's justice in their be- 
half; yet inasmuch as He was given by the Father for them, their 
Justification is only of free grace, that both the exact justice and rich 



THE AUTHOR'S CREED. 105 

grace of God might be glorified in the Justification of sinners. " It 
is God that justifies the sinner in the person of His Son." Jesus 
having paid their debt, the law has no more dominion over them ; 
they are not under the law, but under grace. Romans, 3:24, and 
8:30; Romans, 4 : 5-8 ; Ephes., 1:7; I. Cor., 1 : 30-31 ; Romans, 
5 : 17-18-19 ; Phil., 3 : 39 ; Ephes, 2 : 8-9-10 ; John, 1:12: Romans, 
5:17; Romans, 3 : 28 ; Gal., 5:6; James, 2 : 17-22-26. 

ADOPTION. 

All those that are justified, God vouchsafed in and for the sake of 
His only Son, Jesus Christ, to make them partakers of the grace of 
Adoption, by which they are taken into the number, and enjoy the 
liberties and privileges of the children of God, have His name upon 
them, receive the spirit of Adoption whereby they are enabled to cry 
Abba, Father. They have access to the throne of grace; are pitied, 
protected, provided for, and chastened by Him as by a Father; 
yet never cast off, but sealed to the day of their redemption, and 
inherit the promises as heirs of everlasting salvation. Gal., 3:9; 
Romans, 4:22-23-24, Ephes., 1:5; Gal., 4:4-5; John, 1 :i2; 
Romans, 8:12-15; Gal., 4:6; Ephes., 2:18; Psalms, 103:13; 
Prov., 14:26; I.Peter, 5:7; Heb., 12:6; Isaiah, 54:8-9; Lam., 
3:31; Ephes., 4:30; Heb., 1 : 14, and 6: 12. 

GRACE IN REGENERATION. 

In order to be saved, sinners must be Regenerated, or born again ; 
that Regeneration consists in giving a holy disposition to the mind ; 
that it is effected in a manner above our comprehension by the pow- 
er of the Holy Spirit, in connection with divine truth, so as to secure 
our voluntary obedience to the Gospel; and that its proper evidence 
appears in the holy fruits of repentance, and faith, and newness of 
life. John, 3 : 3, and 6 : 7-8 ; John, 1:18; Rev., 8 : 7-9 ; I. Cor., 1:14; 
II. Cor., 5: 17; John, 1:13; James, 1:16-18; Phil., 2:13; I. Cor., 
1:14. 

SANCTIFICATION. 

They who are united to Christ, effectually called and regenerated, 
having a new heart and a new spirit created in them, through the 
virtue of Christ's death and resurrection, are also further Sanctified, 



106 THE AUTHOR'S CREED. 

really and personally, through the same virtue, by His Word and 
Spirit dwelling in them ; the dominion of the whole body of sin is 
destroyed, and the several lusts thereof are more and more weak- 
ened and mortified ; and they are more and more quickened and 
strengthened in all saving grace, to the practice of all true holiness, 
without which no man shall see the Lord. This Sanctification is 
throughout in the whole man, yet imperfect in this life : there abideth 
still some remnant of corruption, whence ariseth a continual and 
irreconcilable war, the flesh lusting against the spirit and the spirit 
against the flesh ; in which war, although the remaining corruption 
for a time may much prevail, yet through the continual supply of 
strength from the Sanctifying Spirit of Christ, the regenerate part doth 
overcome. Acts, 20:32; Romans, 6:5-6; John, 17: 17; Eph., 3:16- 
19; Thess., 5:21-22-23; Romans, 6:14; Gal., 5:24; Col., 1:11-12; 
Cor., 6:1; Heb., 12:14; I. Thess., 5523 ; Romans, 6: 18-23 ; Gal., 
5:17; I. Peter, 2:11; Romans. 6 : 23. 

SAVING FAITH. 

The grace of Faith, which is spiritual perception, whereby the elect 
are enabled to believe to the saving of their souls, is the work of the 
Spirit of Christ in their hearts, and is ordinarily wrought by the 
ministry of the Word : by which also, and by the administration of 
Baptism, the Lord's Supper, Prayer, and other means appointed of 
God; it is increased and strengthened by this Faith. A Christian 
believeth to be true whatsoever is revealed in the Word on the au- 
thority of God Himself; and, also, apprehendeth an excellency 
therein above all other writings, and all things in the world, as 
it bears forth the glory of God in His attributes, the excellency of 
Christ in His nature and offices. This Faith, although it be different, 
in degrees, and may be weak or strong, yet it is in the least degree 
of it, different in the kind, or nature of it, from the Faith and com- 
mon grace of temporary believers ; and, therefore, though it may 
be many times assailed and weakened, yet it gets the victory, grow- 
ing up in many to the full assurance through Christ, who is both the 
author and Finisher of our Faith. Eph., 4: 15-16: II. Cor., 3:18; 
II. Cor., 4:13; Ephs., 2:8; Romans, 10:14-17, Luke, 17:5; I. 
Peter, 2:2; Acts, 20 : 32, and 24 : 14 ; Psalms, 19 : 7-8-9-10, and 1 19 : 72 ; 
II. Timothy, 1 : 12; John, 15:14; Isaiah, 66: 2 ; Heb., 11 : 13 ; John, 
1 : 12; Acts, 16:31 ; Gal., 2 : 20; Acts, 15 : 11 ; Heb., 5: 13-14; Mat., 



THE author's creed. 107 

6:30; Romans, 4: 19-20; II. Peter, I : I ; Ephes., 6:16; I. John, 5:5: 
Heb., 6: 11-12; Col., 2:2; Heb., 12:2. 

REPENTANCE UNTO LIFE AND SALVATION. 

Repentance is an evangelical grace, whereby a person, being by 
the Holy Spirit made sensible of the evils of his sin, doth by faith in 
Christ, humble himself for it, with godly sorrow, detestation of it, 
and self-abhorence, praying for pardon and strength of grace; with 
a purpose and endeavor by supplies of the Spirit to walk before God 
unto all well-pleasing in all things. As Repentence is to be continued 
through the whole course of our lives, upon the account of the body 
of death and motions thereof, so it is every one's duty to Repent of 
his particular known sins. Such is the provision which God hath 
made through Christ in the Covenant of Grace, for the preservation 
of believers unto salvation, that, although there is no sin so small 
but it deserves damnation, yet there is no sin so great, that it shall 
bring damnation on them that Repent ; which makes the constant 
preaching of Repentance necessary. Zach., 12:10; Acts, 11:18; 
Ezekiel, 36 : 31 ; II. Cor., 7 : 11 ; Psalms 119 : 6-128 ; Luke, 9:8; I. 
Timothy, 1 : 13-15 ; Romans, 6 : 23 ; Isaiah, 1 : 16-17-18, and 55:7; 
Micah, 6:8; Heb., 13 :2i ; Mat., 15:9; Isaiah, 19: 13; James, 2 : 13 
-22; Psalms 116:12-13; I. John, 2:3-5; II. Peter, 1 : 5-1 1 ; Mat., 
5:16; I. Timoth, 6:1; I. Peter, 2:15; Phil., 1 : 1 1 ; Ephes., 1 1 : 10 ; 
Romans, 6 :22 ; John, 15 14.-$', II. Cor., 3:5; Phil., 2:13. 

GOOD WORKS. 

Good works are only such as God has commanded in His Holy 
Word, and not such as are without the warrant thereof, devised by 
men without God's authority. These Good Works, done in obedience 
to God's commandments, are the fruits and evidences of a true and 
lively faith; and by them believers manifest their thankfulness, 
strength, their assurance, edify their brethren, adorn their profession 
of the Gospel, stop the mouths of the adversaries, and glorify God, 
whose workmanship they are, created in Christ Jesus thereunto, that 
having their fruit unto holiness, they may have the end, eternal life. 
Their ability to do Good Works is not at all of themselves, but wholly 
from the Spirit of Christ; and that they may be enabled thereunto, 
besides the graces they have already received, there is necessary an 



108 THE AUTHOR'S CREED. 

actual influence of the Holy Spirit to work in them, to will and to do 
of his good pleasure. Hence they are called upon to work out their 
salvation with fear and trembling. God works in, and they work 
out. Micah, 6:8; Heb., 13:21; Mat., 15:1; Isaiah, 19:13; James, 
2:13-22; Psalm 116:12-13; I. John, 2 ; 3-5; II. Peter, 1:5-11; Mat., 
5:16; I. Timothy, 6:1 ; I. Peter, 2 : 15 ; Phil., 1 : 11 ; Ephes., 2: 10; 
Romans, 6:22; John, 15:4-5 ; II. Cor., 3:5; Phil., 2:13. 

PERSEVERANCE OF THE SAINTS. 

This Perseverance of the Saints depends upon the immutable and 
unchanging love of God the Father, upon the efficacy of the merit 
and intercession of Jesus Christ, and union with Him, the oath of 
God, the abiding of His Spirit, the seed of God within them, and 
the nature of the covenant of grace ; their names being written in 
the Lamb's Book of Life, God will never order it erased. In that 
most solemn prayer of our Lord to His Father, he says, "those that 
thou gavest me I have kept, and none of them is lost." They are 
kept through faith by the power of God unto salvation. And again, 
" Ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God " — a deposi- 
tory in which, had I ten thousand souls, I could trust them all there. 
Mat., 25 : 21-23 ; Heb., 6 : 10 ; I. Cor., 13:1; Mat., 6 : 2-5 ; Romans, 
9:16; Titus, 3:5; Romans, 8 : 30, and 9 : 1 1-16. 

BAPTISM AND THE LORD'S SUPPER. 

Immersion, or dipping the person in water, is the only mode of 
Baptism presented in the Word of God, and should always precede 
the partaking of the elements of the Lord's Supper. Christ and the 
Apostles did not administer to any theTemblems of His broken body 
and spilt blood, except such as had been immersed. And in giving 
that commission to His disciples, to go into all the world and preach 
the Gospel to every creature, He said of the subject of Baptism, "he 
that believeth, and is baptized, shall be saved." Hence the fitness 
of such to come to the Lord's Table ; and as it is with the heart 
man believeth unto righteousness, it is clear that regeneration pre- 
cedes Baptism. 

A GOSPEL CHURCH. 

A visible Church of Christ, is a congregation of baptized believers, 
associated by covenant in the faith and fellowship of the Gospel ; ob- 



THE AUTHOR'S CREED. 109 

serving the ordinances of Christ, governed by His laws, and exercising 
the gifts, rights, and privileges invested in them by His Word; that 
its only scriptural officers are bishops or pastors, and deacons, whose 
qualifications, claims, and duties are defined in the Epistles to Timo- 
thy and Titus. I. Cor., 1 : 1-13 ; Mat., 18: 17 ; Acts., 5 : 11, and 8; 1, 
and 11: 31; I. Cor., 4; 17, and 14:23; Acts, 2 :4i-42. "Then they 
that gladly received His Word were baptized, and the same day 
there were added to them about three thousand souls." II. Cor., 
8:5. " They first gave their ownselves to the Lord and unto us by 
the will of God." I. Cor., 11:2. " Now I pray you, brethren, that 
you remember me in all things, and keep the ordinances as I deliver 
them unto you." Mat., 28 : 20. "Teaching them to observe all 
things whatsoever I have commanded you." 

BAPTISM AND THE LORD'S SUPPER. 

Baptism and the Lord's Supper, are ordinances of positive and 
sovereign institution, appointed by the Lord Jesus, the only Law 
Giver, to be continued in His Church to the end of the world. These 
holy sacraments are to be administered by those only who are quali- 
fied, and thereunto called, according to the commission of Christ. 
Matt., 28: 19-20; I. Cor., 4:1; Romans, 6: 3-4-5: Colos., 2: 1-2; 
Galatians, 3 : 27 ; Mark, 1:4; Acts, 26 ; 16 : Romans, 6:4; Mark, 
16 : 16 ; Acts, 8 : 37-38 ; Matt., 3:16; John, 3 : 23. 

BAPTISM. 

Baptism is an Ordinance of the New Testament, ordained by 
Jesus Christ, to be unto the party baptized a sign of his fellowship 
with Him in His death and resurrection ; of his being engrafted 
into Him ; of remission of sins, and of his giving up unto God, 
through Jesus Christ, to live and walk in newness of life. Those 
who do actually profess repentance towards God, faith in and obedi- 
ence to our Lord Jesus Christ, are the only proper subjects of this 
Ordinance. The outward element to be used in this Ordinance is 
water, wherein the party is to be baptized in the name of the Father, 
and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Immersion in water is 
necessary to the due administration of this Ordinance. 



110 THE AUTHOR'S CREED, 



THE LORD S SUPPER. 



The Supper of the Lord Jesus was instituted by Him, the same 
night in which He was betrayed, to be observed in His Church, unto 
the end of the world, for the perpetual remembrance and showing 
forth the sacrifice of Himself in His death, a conformation of the 
faith of believers, in all the benefits thereof ; their spiritual nourish- 
ment and growth in Him ; their further engagement in and to all 
duties, which they owe unto Him, and to be a bond and pledge of 
their communion with Him, who alone is a sacrifice and propitiation 
for sin. I. Cor., n : 23-26; I. Cor., 10: 16-17-21 : Heb., 9:25-26-38. 
I. Cor., 11:24; Math., 26:26-27-28; Acts, 3:21; Luke, 24:6-39. 

THE STATE OF MAN AFTER DEATH. 

The bodies of men after death return to dust, and see corruption ; 
but their souls which never die, having an immortal principle, imme- 
diately return to God who gave them. The souls of the righteous 
are made perfect in holiness, and are received into Paradise, where 
they are ever with the Lord. That the Day of Judgment is approach- 
ing ; that Christ will descend from Heaven and raise the dead from 
the grave to final retribution ; that a final separation will then take 
place; that the wicked will be adjudged to endless punishment, and 
the righteous to endless joy ; and that this judgment will fix forever 
the final state of man — in Heaven or Hell, on principles of right- 
eousness. I. Peter, 4:7. "But the end of all things is at hand; 
be therefore sober and watch unto prayer." Acts, i:ii. "This 
same Jesus which is taken up from you into Heaven, shall so come 
in like manner as ye have seen Him go into Heaven." Acts, 24: 15. 
" There shall be a resurrection of the dead, both of the just and 
unjust." Mat., 13 :49- " The angels shall come forth and sever the 
wicked from among the just." Mat., 25:35-41. "And these shall 
go away into everlasting punishment, but the righteous into life 
eternal." 

" Seeing then that all these things must be dissolved, what manner 
of persons ought ye to be in all holy conversation and godliness, 
looking for and hastening unto the day of God." II. Peter, 3 : 11-12. 

The Holy Scriptures are the only sufficient, certain, and infallible 
rule of all saving knowledge, faith, and obedience. II. Timothy, 
3:15-16-17. "And that from a child, thou hast known the Holy 



THE author's creed. Ill 

Scriptures, which are able to make thee wise unto salvation, through 
faith which is in Christ Jesus." All Scripture is given by inspiration 
of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, and 
for instruction in righteousness ; that the man of God may be per- 
fect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works." Hence all Church 
laws not founded on the Word of God, are not binding on the be- 
liever, and are works of supererogation. 

GOD AND THE TRINITY. 

The Lord our God is the one only living and true God, infinite in being 
and perfection, altogether beyond our comprehension, who only hath 
immortality. He is immutable, eternal, almighty, and infinite. His 
knowledge is infinite, infallible, and independent, sfo that nothing is 
to Him contingent or uncertain. In this divine and infinite Being, 
there are three that bear record in Heaven : the Father, the Word or 
Son, and Holy Spirit, and these Three are One, equal in power, 
wisdom, glory, dignity, and eternity, altogether beyond our compre- 
hension. John, 5; 26-27; I- Cor., 8:6; John, 4:24; Romans, 11:34- 
36; I. Cor., 2:10-11, and 12:11; Eph., 4:3; Mat., 28:19; II. Cor., 
13:14; John, 14:26- From these and numerous other passages of 
Holy Writ, we form our views of the Holy Trinity. 



112 SERMON ON MILLENNIUM. 



SERMON ON MILLENNIUM. 

Text, Matthew, 7:12, and 6:g; Luke, 11 : 2. 



" Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to 
you, do ye even so to them: for this is the Law and the Prophets." 
" Thy will be done in earth as it is in Heaven." 

I shall take the liberty of quoting from Encyclopedia of Religious 
knowledge for definitions : 

Millenium is a thousand years, generally employed to denote the 
thousand years, during which, according to an ancient tradition in 
the Church, grounded on some doubtful texts in the Apocalypse and 
other Scriptures. Our Saviour shall reign with the faithful on earth 
a thousand years. Without following the opinions of men in the dif- 
ferent ages of the world, we will only present what we conceive to 
be the real Millennium, and observe the following things : 

First, that the Scriptures afford us ground to believe that the 
Church will arrive at a state of prosperity which it has never yet 
enjoyed. Rev., 20:4-7; Psalms, 72:11; Isaiah, 2:2-4; Il: 9', 
49 : 23, and Daniel, 7 : 27. This Millennium will continue at least a 
thousand years, or a considerable time, in which the work of salva- 
tion may be fully accomplished in the utmost extent and glory of it. 
In this time in which the world will soon be filled with real Christians, 
and continue full by early regeneration, to supply the place of those 
who leave the world, there will be many thousand born and live on 
the earth, to each one that has been born and lived in the preceding 
six thousand years, so that if they who shall be born in that thous- 
and years shall be all, or most of them saved, as they will be, there 
will on the whole be many thousands of mankind saved to one that 
will be lost. 



SERMON ON MILLENNIUM. 113 

This will be a state of great happiness and glory. The Jews will 
be converted, genuine Christianity will be diffused through all na- 
tions, and Christ shall reign by his spiritual presence, in a glorious 
manner throughout the whole earth. It will be a time of eminent 
holiness, clear light and knowledge, love, peace, and friendship, and 
agreement in doctrine and worship. 

Human life will, perhaps, rarely be endangered by the poisons of 
the mineral, vegetable, and animal kingdoms. Beasts of prey, per- 
haps, will be extirpated or tamed by the power of man. The 
inhabitants of every place will rest secure from robbery and mur- 
der. War shall be entirely ended. Capital crimes and punishments 
will be heard of no more. Governments will be placed on just, 
equitable, fair, and humane foundations. The torch of civil discord 
will be extinguished. Pagans, Turks, Deists, and Jews will either 
be converted, or will be few in number. Kings, nobles, magistrates, 
and all rulers, shall act from principle, and be forward to promote 
the best interests of men. Tyranny, oppression, persecution, bigo- 
try, and cruelty, shall cease. 

Business will be attended to without contention, dishonesty, and 
covetousness. Trades and manufactories will be conducted with a 
design to promote the best interest of mankind, and not with selfish 
interests as now. Works of ornament and beauty shall not be want- 
ing in those days. Learning shall greatly increase, and be employed 
for the best of purposes. The tempest will lose half its force, the 
lightning lose half its terrors. The human frame will not be so 
much exposed to danger. Above all, the Bible will be more fully 
appreciated ; its harmony perceived, its superiority owned, and its 
energy felt by millions of human beings. The earth shall be filled 
with the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea. 

The time when the Millenium will commence, cannot be fully 
ascertained ; but the common idea is that it will be in the seven 
thousandth year of the world. It will most probable come on by 
degrees, and be, in a manner, introduced years before that time. 

Who knows but the present convulsions among different Nations, 
and the fulfillment of prophecy, and the falling away of many in the 
last times, as well as the number of missionaries sent into different 
parts of the world, the thousands of ignorant children who are 
taught to read the Bible, and the vast number of benevolent socie- 
ties, may all combine to usher in that glorious morn when the whole 
world shall be filled with His glory, and all the ends of the earth 
8 



114 SERMON ON MILLENNIUM. 

shall see the salvation of our God ! How delightful, then, the pros- 
pects which open upon the eye of faith in prophetic vision ! 

Christianity will prevail universally. Our entire race will assume 
the appearance of one vast, virtuous, peaceful family ! Our world 
will become the seat of one grand, triumphant, adoring assembly. 

At length, after a brief space of severe trial, the scene will mingle 
with the Heavens, and, rising in brightness, will be blended with 
the glories on high ! The mysteries of God on earth will be finished. 
The times of restitution of all things will be fulfilled ; the Son of God 
will descend ! 

The scene closes with divine grandeur — " And I heard, as it were 
the voice of a great multitude, as the voice of many waters, and as 
the voice of many thunders, saying, "Alleluia! For the Lord God 
Omnipotent reigneth. The kingdoms of this world are become the 
kingdoms of our Lord and His Christ." And I saw a new Heaven 
and a new Earth ; for the first Heaven and the first Earth were 
passed away, and there was no more sea. And I saw the holy city, 
New Jerusalem, coming down from God out of Heaven. And I 
heard a great voice out of Heaven, saying, " Behold! the Taberna- 
cle of God is with men, and He will dwell with them, and they shall 
be His people ; and God Himself shall be with them, and be their 
God." 

" Oh ! for such love as this. Let rocks and hills 
Their lasting silence break, 

And all harmonious human tongues 
The Saviour's praises speak." 

In view of all these facts, we should inquire why it is that man is 
so far fallen ; so estranged from God, his Creator, and so inattentive 
to the salvation of his soul, and glued to a delusive world like this ? 
To this inquiry we answer, first, negatively, it is not because of any 
want in the economy of God's gracious designs to make man happy 
in this lower world ; but it is because of man's disobedience, that he 
is averse to God, his Creator. We are all fallen in Adam, our feder- 
eral head and representative, and the one act of his disobedience 
brought death with all our moral woes entailed upon us. 

God made man in His own image, male and female, but he made 
them moral agents ; they could not have borne His image without 
it ; and the fact that he gave to them a law, is full proof that he did 
not make them machines, only acting as they were acted upon. But 



SERMON ON MILLENNIUM. 115 

being free in all their moral powers, the consequence of obedience 
being eternal happiness, and disobedience eternal misery! By that 
act of the violation of God's law given to them, sin has spread its 
baneful influence through all the human family — influence which, 
like a wave that starts from the ship on the middle of the ocean, 
will continue to roll until it reaches the farther shore, if it meets no 
counteracting force. Thus it is that sin has spread its influence for 
about six thousand years through every avenue of the soul of man ; 
but, thanks to Almighty God, He has provided a counteracting influ- 
ence, which will work like leaven, silently but surely, until the work 
is accomplished, and sin is rolled back to its native hell, from which 
it originated. 

This counteracting influence is the Cross of Christ, the blood of 
Jesus that cleanses from all sin. Oh, how great and awful are some- 
times the consequences of one wrong act, or one erroneous princi- 
ple imbibed and incorporated as a rule of life. Witness, for exam- 
ple, the Southern States incorporating in their Statute the right of 
slavery, the right of holding their fellow man in abject bondage, 
contrary to the plain Declaration of Independence "that all men 
are born free, with equal and inalienable rights." And, oh ! see 
what it cost, the millions of lives and treasure, to check that evil 
until a reconstruction of the laws should so take place that the foul 
stain of slavery should be blotted out from the escutcheon of our 
country, from Maine to Texas ! 

For the accomplishment of this, we are greatly indebted to our 
Thirty-ninth and Fortieth Congress in establishing the true princi- 
ples of justice, equity, and right, that must take place among all 
men, of every clime and color, before the will of God will be done 
on earth as it is in Heaven. Our political aspect, in regard to the 
Millennium, then stood in advance of the Church. There may be a 
reaction in this great political reform, being in advance of the peo- 
ple, but, like the needle in the compass, it may vibrate, but will 
surely settle to the Northern Pole. These great principles of justice, 
equity, and right, must and will have their attractive influence, until, 
in the true spirit of the Declaration of Independence, our whole 
Nation must acknowledge that all men are born free, with equal and 
inalienable rights. 

We notice another fact connected with the foregoing : The wis- 
dom, justice, and mercy of God in the creation of all animal exist- 
ence, form one chain of mutual dependence upon God their Creator, 



116 SERMON ON MILLENNIUM. 

and mutual correspondence descends from Heaven to all animal 
creation, so that God never made anything alone for itself — from the 
tallest angel that surrounds the throne of God, down to the meanest 
reptile that crawls upon the earth ! How much more, then, should 
one common brotherhood fill the whole earth. "And all things 
whatsoever that we would have men to do to us, do even so to them, 
for this is the law and the prophets." All the laws from Genesis to 
Revelation, are fulfilled in this great command : "Thou shalt love 
the Lord thy God with all thy strength, and with all thy heart, and 
thou shalt love thy neighbor as thy self." 

Let us remember that the laws of God are not arbitrary ; they are 
all given for our mutual benefit, which tend to the glory of God. 
They stand out like a finger-board to point to us the right way. The 
consequences of not going the right way, would be the same if there 
was no law ; as the consequence would be the same to the traveler, 
in taking the wrong road, if there were no finger-board. 

Thus the Psalmist would say, "how love 1 thy law." It is also a 
lamp to guide our souls to Heaven. God sees not as man sees. 
God's ways are not as man's ways. He often accomplishes great 
things with very small means, unnoticed by the superficial observer. 

The falling of an apple suggested to the mind of Sir Isaac New- 
ton the universal law of gravitation. Roger Williams, in the capac- 
ious recesses of his mind, revolved the nature of intolerance, and 
he, and he alone, had arrived at the great principle which is its sole 
effectual remedy. He announced his discovery under the simple 
proposition of the sanctity of conscience. This idea was more 
clearly conceived of by Thomas Jefferson, and laid at the founda- 
tion of this Republic. Again was it taken up by Louis Kossuth, 
who, in his zeal for the liberties of men, declared he stood forth in 
the power of his might and bid a world be free. 

While Abraham Lincoln, fired with the same idea, issued the 
Emancipation Proclamation, and the shackles fell from American 
Slavery. And I here confess that 1 have ever been in sympathy 
with the cause of the Fenians for the liberation of Ireland. 

God is turning and overturning the nations of the earth, and pre- 
paring them for the great principles of His Word, "that all things 
whatsoever we would that men should do to us, we will do even so 
to them, that the will of God may be done on Earth as it is done 
in Heaven." 






SERMON ON MILLENNIUM. 11? 

It only remains now to look at the Church, in her present condi- 
tion, and ask ourselves whither are we drifting ? Are we running 
after the phantoms of the world, or are we looking with glowing 
anticipations for such glorious results ? Do we really desire them, 
and are we praying as Christ directed — that His will may be done on 
Earth as it is in Heaven ! Oh, look at the glorious results of the ful- 
fillment of this prayer ! There will be no slavery on the earth, no 
drunkenness, no profaning the name of God, no violation of God's 
Holy day, no cheating and defrauding one another, no lying one to 
another, no stealing ; but all abominations will be done away ! The 
happiness of each will consist in making others happy. Mutual 
happiness will ensue. 

" Oh, happy, happy, happy day, 
When sin will all be done away." 

" Together let us sweetly live, 
Together let us die, 
And each a starry crown receive, 
And reign with Christ on high." 



118 EXTRACT FROM A SERMON PREACHED FOR CRITICISM. 



AN EXTRACT FROM A SERMON PREACHED BY THE 
AUTHOR BEFORE A MINISTERIAL CONFERENCE 
FOR THEIR CRITICISM. 

Text, Rev., 4 : 8, latter clause of verse. 

"And they rest not day and night, saying Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord 
God Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come." 

John saw a door set open in Heaven, and the first voice that he 
heard sounded loud like a trumpet, saying, "come up hither." So 
we should leave the world and sin behind. Remember, as we ap- 
proach God's Word, we are on holy ground, and should put off our 
shoes, or lay aside that on which we stand when engaged in our 
secular business, and like John, be found in the Spirit, while we look 
on Him that sits on the throne of Heaven in such magnificent 
holiness, while He communicates to His servants by His Word, 
things that must take place hereafter. I here assume that those 
things spoken to John, are taking place now on this earth. God 
would reveal to John by presenting this world in miniature, like 
presenting to the student in geography an artificial globe. 

The characteristics of the Gospel ministers are portrayed by the 
four beasts full of eyes, before and behind ; the latter to look back 
to Genesis, to the beginning of time ; and the former to look for- 
word to the end of time. The first beast was like a lion, to show 
their courage. The second beast was like a calf, being of the ox 
kind, to show their endurance. The third beast had a face as a 
man. " This treasure is committed to men of like passions with 
yourselves." The fourth beast was like to a flying eagle, to show 
the velocity with which the Gospel would fly from the rivers to the 
ends of the earth. To this end they had each of them six wings. 
And they rest not day and night, saying, " Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord 
God Almighty." So in Isaiah's vision, the seraphims had each of 



ERTRACT FROM A SERMON PREACHED FOR CRITICISM. 119 

them six wings, and they cried, saying, " Holy, Holy, Holy is the 
Lord of hosts, — the whole earth is full of His Glory." 

How important the eyes within that they may see the corruption 
of their own hearts. " And they rest not day and night, etc." 

The circumference of the earth is 360 degrees, 60 geographical 
miles being one degree. That multiplied by 60 gives 21,600 miles, 
which is the circumference of the earth. That divided by 24, there 
being 24 hours in each day, gives us 900 miles ; so that the 24 
Elders are placed around the earth just 900 geographical miles 
apart, each one preaching at eleven o'clock, there would not be a 
moment of time that one of the 24 would not be preaching the 
Gospel. Then take your artificial globe, go to the equator, and 
range from the Northern to the Southern pole, and see if there are 
any nine hundred miles in which the Gospel is not preached. Thus 
you will see "they rest not day and night." Holiness is every mo- 
ment ascending from earth to Heaven. 

Here I will offer a detector : Holiness may be ascribed to God the 
Father. And subtracted from God the Son, or it may be given to 
both and subtracted from God the Holy Spirit. In either case it is 
not that Holiness recognized by the text, and also by the Bible. The 
Prophet saw this day and said, " In that day there shall be upon the 
bells of the horses Holiness unto the Lord." Isaiah, 6 : 1-2-3. 
" He saw the Lord high and lifted up, and His train filled the tem- 
ple, above it stood the seraphims : each had six wings ; with twain 
he covered his face, with twain he covered his feet, and with twain 
he did fly, and one cried unto another and said, ' Holy, Holy, Holy , 
is the Lord of Hosts : the whole earth is full of His Glory.' " " There 
are three that bear record in Heaven, the Father, the Son, and the 
Holy Spirit, and these three are One," equal in power, wisdom, 
glory, dignity, and eternity. 

God, the Father, is glorious in holiness ; God, the Son, is glorious 
in redemption ; God, the Holy Spirit, is glorious in reproving the 
world of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment: so that all His 
true ministers cry, saying, " Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God Almighty." 
But as we only promised an extract, we will leave this skeleton to 
be finished by the reader at his pleasure. 



NOTE BY THE EDITOR. 



Finding that the manuscript which had been furnished by Mr. 
Townsend, is not sufficient in amount to fill out the proposed limits 
of this volume, it unexpectedly becomes my duty to furnish the 
matter which is yet demanded. To this end, I have written the fol- 
lowing Temperance history, which is presented under the title of 
" The Transmitted Curse." 

The reader is assured that, startling, and even sensational, as some 
of the developments in this narrative may appear, they are essen- 
tially true, and I here present them as a contribution to the cause of 
Temperance, and as a signal proof that moral diseases, as well as 
physical, are transmitted from parents to children to the third and 
fourth generations. As an apology in behalf of myself, I may be 
permitted to say that this narrative was dictated while I was, most of 
the time, confined to my room, and suffering from lung fever. As it 
is, however, I give it to the world, hoping that it may do some good 
in advancing the moral welfare of this generation. 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 123 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

Written by J. M. DIXON, Blind Editor. 



CHAPTER I. 



I will relate here in the start an incident which occurred nearly 
forty years ago, in a little village in Ohio wherein my father and his 
family were, at the time residing. I was then about ten years of age, 
full of the thoughtless energy of life's young spring-time. Early one 
morning — I remember it was the warm season of the year — I was 
standing in an open door-way in the rear part of our house, glancing 
out at the scenery which was visible from that point of observation. 
A low saloon, or doggery, was kept in a little, old, dingy, and dilapi- 
dated brick house about a square distant, in the rear yard of which, 
tilted back in a chair, was seated a man about fifty years of age, in 
the maudlin stage of intoxication. I knew him at a glance to be a 
well-to-do farmer by the name of Belgrave, whose residence was 
three miles from the village. 

At the moment I saw him he was throwing his arms wildly about 
his head, and quoting from Shakspeare, or some other dramatic poet, 
with an air of tragic frenzy truly stupendous. The saloon-keeper, 
along with six or seven bloats of the dead-beat species who were 
waiting, sponge-like, to be treated by their victim, were engaged in 
laughing at Mr. B., whose absurd and grotesque manners were truly 
attractive to those inglorious wretches. I remember that my mind, 
young as I was, unconciously reverted to Mr. Belgrave's interesting- 
family. I thought of his accomplished wife, and of his four promis- 
ing sons, each of whom, except the youngest, had reached that im- 
pressible period in life when bad examples might possibly lead them 
to ruin. 



124 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

There was one thing, however, of which I did not think at the 
time. This was the fact that the father of Mr. Belgrave had died of 
delirium tremens! His grandfather was killed in a drunken quarrel ; 
and as far back as the genealogy of the family could be traced, it 
was discovered that the curse of transmitted drunkenness was never 
absent, following the family, from generation to generation with a 
kind of relentless malignity. 

The present Mr. Belgrave, however, tried usually to keep up ap- 
pearances, despite the overmastering appetite which threatened to 
consume him. For his wife's sake, and for his children's sake, he 
often summoned his strongest manhood to his aid, and success- 
fuly resisted the temptation ; and even in his hours of debauchery, 
when reason and resolution succumbed to imperious habit, he was 
altogether superior to the wretches who swarmed about him, eager to 
gratify their thirst at his expense. Always, and everywhere, sober 
or besotted, an air of conscious respectability attached to him, which 
neither vile companionship, nor the grossest drunkenness, could 
wholly obliterate. 

On the day of which I write, he remained for hours the centre of 
an admiring group of drunkards, exciting their mirth by his maudlin 
conceits and drollery ; after which he fell off into a dead stupor, 
from which he was aroused by the arrival of his second son, Charles, 
an active, intelligent youth of some eighteen years of age. 

"Wake up, father," said he in tones of filial deference — "Wake 
up, and come home ; mother is very sick." 

" It's not time to get up yet, my boy; for it's not day," muttered 
the father, believing that he was at home in bed. 

" Come, father, do come," responded the son, gently shaking the 
arm of the drunkard — "I've brought a horse for you to ride home, 
and mother is so anxious about you : O, do come, father ! " 

" Yes — yes — yes — I'm — I'm going ! " replied the poor man, lapsing 
again into forgetfulness, with his head thrown obliquely over the 
back of his chair, in an attitude which threatened strangulation. 
Great swarms of flies were hovering about him, some of which were 
forcing an entrance into his open mouth, upturned to the blare of an 
ardent sun ! His eyes, red and swollen, were half open, staring out 
blankly on surrounding objects. It was indeed a disgusting, as well 
as pifitiful spectacle^ 

"What shall I do? What shall I do ?" inquired Charles, excited 
an4 alarme<Tat his father's melancholy condition, 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 125 

" Never mind, my boy, " said Dick Martin, the saloon-keeper, 
with a sneer, " your father is in no danger. Let him alone, and he'll 
come out of this 'ere spell afore long, as bright as a new dollar ! " 

" I don't want to talk to you. sir," exclaimed Charles, his eyes 
flashing with resentment — " It is you, and vile, miserable men like 
yourself, who have brought my father into this trouble ; I want noth- 
ing to do with you, sir ! " 

"What's that yer sayin', you young vagabond ? " inquired Martin 
in a rage, dilating his small but bloated figure to the largest possible 
size, and doubling up his fists defiantly — "Give me any more of 
your sass, sir, and I'll make mince-meat of you quicker 'n lightnin' ! 
D'ye hear that, my fine boy ? " 

"All I ask of you is to keep out of my way, " replied Charles, 
whose tall, lithe frame was animated with just anger — " All I want is 
to get my father away from this vile place ; and I trust in God he 
never will return to it ! " 

" Vile place, eh? Take that, for your impudence, and may it do 
you much good ! " exclaimed the saloon-keeper, directing a blow of 
his fist full at the young man's face. Fortunately, however, Charles 
sprang lightly aside, avoiding the blow ; and as a just return for the 
indignity which had been offered, he planted his clenched fist in the 
face of Martin, from whose wounded nose the blood began to flow in 
torrents ! The by-standing bloats and dead-beats who had witnessed 
these belligerent movements, now surrounded the combatants, urg- 
ing on the fray with the zeal of old warriors. To their chagrin, it 
was evident that the courage of Martin, like that of Bob Acres in the 
old English Comedy, was rapidly oozing away. The sight of blood 
issuing from his own nostrils, restrained his valor in the most remark- 
able manner ; and when he saw Charles deliberately throw aside his 
coat, displaying his muscular form to its best advantage, a sudden 
panic seized the man of rum, and had it not been for very shame, he 
would have fled incontinently from the field of strife. 

" Pitch into him, Martin ! Pitch into him ! Don't let it be said 
that a mere boy has flogged you out of your boots ! " was the gener- 
al cry of the whiskey-suckers. Nerved by these taunts, Martin made 
another aggressive movement ; but being blinded and embarrassed 
by the continued flow of blood, he found himself in less than a min- 
ute lying in a graceful position on his back, looking up at he sun with 
a blank expression of bewilderment and alarm. Charles took no 
advantage of his victory, but retiring a yard or two, he magnani- 
mously waited for his enemy to come again to the encounter. 



126 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

But waiting did no good, for Martin was wholly discomfited and 
demoralized, and lay whimpering on the ground, until his dear 
friends carried him into the saloon, where a free use of water applied 
to his face, and a more liberal supply of whiskey applied to his 
stomach, gave him in due time, despite his black eye, a sense of 
comparative renovation. 

By this time the village was in a state of excitement, and Charles, 
as he was putting on his coat, was mortified to see numbers of the 
citizens flocking in curious haste to the scene of encounter. Their 
excited questions annoyed him ; and when they looked at his father, 
whose condition was still unchanged,, the bitterest humiliation filled 
his mind. 

He went to a neighboring house, supplied himself with a cup of 
water, and returning with it, he redoubled his efforts to arouse his 
father. This time he was successful. Mr. Belgrave opened his 
eyes, and looked around with a wondering stare. The deadly 
stupor which had oppressed him was passing away. He drank from 
the proffered cup with avidity, and he seemed to be in a fair way of 
recovery. 

" Now, father, can't you go home with me?" inquired Charles, 
" I told you that mother was sick, and she wants to see you very 
much." 

The father groaned, and his face sank for a moment to his chest. 
Shame and remorse were brooding like vultures in his soul. 

"Poor wife!" muttered he, regretfully. "How much she must 
suffer on my account. Oh ! this thirst, this thirst ! Who will deliver 
me from the body of this death ? " 

By the assistance of Charles he staggered to his feet, and started 
to the place where his horse was hitched. From the rear yard they 
were obliged to pass through the saloon ; and in doing so, he hesitated 
for a moment, and then paused, as though unwilling to proceed any 
farther. 

"Oh, this thirst!" With a shudder — "I cannot go without 
another draught of this accursed beverage ! " 

It was well for Charles, and better still for his father, that the 
saloon-keeper at this juncture was particularly angry ; so much so, 
indeed, that his avarice for the time being was absorbed by a more 
potent passion. 

" You don't get any more drinks here ! " said he, with a burst of 
cautious fury. " If there's any law in the land, I'll make that son 
of your'n smart for what he's done to-day. Dim me if I don't ! " 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 127 

Mr. Belgrave gazed in utter astonishment at Martin. This was 
the first time that the saloon-keeper had ever been known to refuse 
the drinks for money. 

"Father, come along with me. Don't stop in this bad place. 
Remember that mother is sick." As he said this, Charles urged his 
father onward ; but it was some minutes before the wild pleadings 
of the inebriate for more liquor, and his spasmodic resistance to the 
son, were entirely overcome* At last they reached the street, and 
stood beside the gentle horse which had often taken in safety its 
intoxicated rider to his home. With much difficulty, Mr. Belgrave 
mounted a block, while his son held the horse. It happened, how- 
ever, that as the father was in the act of bestriding the beast, an un- 
lucky movement on his part carried him too far on the other side, 
and he was precipitated to the ground with a crash ! A catastrophe 
like this would have stunned or killed a sober man; but in this 
instance, it had the effect to revive the narcotized powers of Mr. B. ; 
and the agility with which he again clambered to his feet, and re-as- 
cended the block, must be regarded as wonderful under the circum- 
stances. 

At last he made the trial again, and would have planted himself 
firmly in the saddle, with his face to the tail of the steed, if Charles 
had not indicated to him the many disadvantages which would result 
from this awkward position. He was at length securely mounted 
amid the laughter of the populace ; and as Charles led the horse, his 
father held on tenaciously, lurching forward occasionally, and vibra- 
ting from side to side like the pendulum of a Dutch clock. 

Thus they passed out of town on their way homeward. 



128 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 



CHAPTER II. 

Physical beauty — that is, symmetry of face and form — was a pre- 
vailing characteristic of the Belgrave family. Each member of it, 
from the father and mother down to Bessie, a bright and animated 
little girl, six years of age, had black, brilliant eyes, with hair of cor- 
responding color, and a complexion inclined to olive. William 
Belgrave, the eldest son, now about twenty-five years of age, had 
years before received a complete English education, after which he 
was employed as book-keeper in the mercantile establishment of 
Ross Brothers, Circleville, Ohio. 

The day before his departure from home, his father took him aside, 
and informed him of the dreadful secret which had cursed the family 
for generations. Said he — 

" The restraints, my son, which have surrounded you in this rural 
home, have thus far kept you from falling into a habit which has 
blighted my whole life. If by the force of resolution, or by earnest 
prayer to God, you should be able to reject the first glass, or resist 
the first horrible temptation, a life of honor and usefulness awaits 
you. But if you should take the first glass, you will inevitably 
become like your father before you, and like all your ancestors, the 
merest slave of an appetite which you cannot master.." 

"I am glad you told me this father," said the son — "I pledge 
you my word of honor that, in my absence from home, I will use all 
vigilance and discretion to escape the fate of drunkards." 

"There is another matter," responded the father, "with which you 
have not been made acquainted, and which when told will help you 
to keep your good resolutions. You will remember that your uncle, 
William Belgrave, for whom you were named, died almost a month 
ago at his residence in Loudon county, Virginia. In spite of his 
intemperate habits, he had accumulated a large estate. Being some- 
what eccentric, his will, as I was yesterday advised by a letter from 






THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 129 

his attorney, was singularly constructed. His son, Leroy, who ran 
away to sea about a year since, was left without a shilling. After 
making ample provisions for his daughter, Clara, his wife being dead, 
the residue of his property, amounting in money and real estate to 
the value of $50,000, was placed in the hands of three trustees in 
trust for you when you shall become twenty-five years of age, which 
will be just seven years hence." 

William started from his seat in surprise, and a glow of pleasure 
lighted up his features. The future at that moment loomed up brightly 
before him. The father noticed this, and with a tremor in his voice, 
resumed the conversation thus — "There is, my son, an important 
provision in the will, which has caused me great anxiety." 

A shade of disappointment passed over William's countenance. 
He returned to his chair, and silently awaited the disclosure which 
was to come. 

" If at the age of twenty-five years," resumed the father, "you 
shall be able to establish to the satisfaction of these trustees that 
you possess an unblemished reputation as a temperance man, and 
as a hater of all intoxicating drugs, then without farther question 
you will become the heir of this princely estate." 

The fortune which a little while before seemed to be in the sure 
grasp of William, now appeared to recede in mockery. 

"Father," said he anxiously, "do you know these trustees? Do 
you know them to be men of personal honor and integrity ? " 

"Yes I know them," replied the father — "Two of them are men 
of high respectability, and I think I can trust them in all confidence. 
The other, General Leslie Norman, was a competitor of mine for the 
hand of your mother, and he has never forgiven me since the day 
in which she informed him in all courtesy that her love constrained 
her to wed another. More than once I felt the bitterness of his em- 
nity, before we left Virginia ; and he it was more than any one else, 
who helped to bring about the great business disaster which over- 
whelmed me many years ago. I am satisfied he will employ every 
possible means to cheat you out of your estate. I intend, however, 
to keep in constant communication with friends in Virginia, so as to 
protect your interests as far as possible." 

"A question here, if you please, father," inquired William — "In 
case the trustees shall decide that I am not worthy to possess this 
property, what disposition then will be made of it ? " 



130 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

"In that case," replied Mr. Belgrave, "the will provides that the 
estate will by you be forfeited, and will then revert to your brother 
Charles, subject to the same conditions which are required in your 
case." 

"Suppose that brother Charles shall fail also — what then ?" asked 
William. 

"The will further provides," answered Mr. B., "-that if Charles 
shall fail in his probation, the same conditions shall be applied to 
your brother John ; and if he shall fail also, your brother George 
will enter upon the same probation. In case all my sons shall fail 
in turn to satisfy the trustees, who with their alternates seem to have 
despotic power in the premises, the property shall then be disposed 
of according to the will of these trustees." 

The next morning after this interview,William started for his place 
of business ; and from time to time thereafter, his father and mother 
received the most gratifying intelligence in regard to his exemplary 
habits, and his devotion to business. At the period which dates the 
commencement of this narative, six months only of his long proba- 
tion remained. Meantime he had formed an attachment, the object 
of which was an accomplished and excellent young lady, Miss Lucy 
Carrington, whose parents lived in Circleville. It was understood 
that, one month to a day, after taking possession of his inheritance, 
the marriage should be duly solemnized ; and to this event both 
William and the lady looked forward with glowing anticipations. 
On the very day in which the elder Mr. Belgrave involved himself 
in the disgrace described in the first chapter, William was expected 
to pay the last visit to his home before bringing his bride with him. 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. lol 



CHAPTER III. 

It will be remembered that we left Charles and his father home- 
ward bound, under circumstances of great mortification. They had 
reached an eminence traditionally known as Painter's (or Panther's) 
hill, when Mr. Belgrave, impelled by his consuming thirst, obsti- 
nately determined to return to the village. To this end, leaning 
forward in the saddle, he snatched the reins from his son's hands, 
turned the horse's head in an opposite direction, and made off with 
all possible speed, leaving Charles to do as he pleased. 

The reader must understand that Mr. Belgrave drunk, and Mr. 
Belgrave sober, were very different identities. Sober, he was a kind 
and amiable gentleman, with a chivalrous bearing which excited 
admiration. Drunk, he was stubborn, irritable, and simply devilish ! 

For full five minutes Charles was rooted to the spot, gazing help- 
lessly in the direction in which his father had disappeared. 

" He'll fall from the horse and be killed ! I know he will! " said 
he, groaning in his trouble. " What shall I do ? What will become 
of poor mother?" 

As he spoke he heard the tramp of horses' feet behind him, and, 
turning 'round, he saw on the summit of the hill two horsemen, who 
were rapidly approaching. As they neared him he recognized one 
of them as his brother William, but the other was a perfect stranger 
whom Charles had never seen before, They drew rein at the foot 
of the hill, where William, having noticed his brother, dismounted 
and cordially shook him by the hand. 

"I reached home but an hour since, and finding mother sick, and 
learning that you and father were in town, I proposed to my friend 
here that we should go to the village and hasten your return. By 
the way, Charles, permit me to introduce you to my very dear friend, 
Mr. Ashton Clifford, of Richmond, Va." 



132 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

As Charles took Mr. Clifford's hand, and glanced into his face, he 
saw indeed a comparatively young and handsome countenance, but 
yet there was something in it after all that repelled him. What 
struck him forcibly at the time was the fact that the young stranger, 
who was perhaps not more than twenty-two years of age, bore a 
strong resemblance to the Belgrave family. His black hair, black 
eyes, dark complexion, and his graceful proportions, gave him a stri- 
king resemblance to Charles especially, who stood on the ground 
regarding him in mute surprise. 

It was evident that his brother had not yet heard of their father's 
recent misconduct. He was reflecting on this subject, hoping that 
an opportunity for explanation might offer itself, when two horse- 
men, coming from the direction of the village, and moving rapidly, 
appeared in sight. At a glance Charles understood the entire situa- 
tion. Timothy Snap, a rough, burly, and rum-blossomed constable, 
along with his stout adherent, Jack Morgan, had come with a war- 
rant, issued by Justice Coops, to arrest Charles Belgrave on a charge 
of assault and battery, one Martin, a saloon-keeper, being the pros- 
ecuting witness. The constable halted when he reached the group, 
and, having fixed his stern and awful eye on his Victim, proceeded 
to read the warrant in a pompous manner. 

" What does all this mean ?" exclaimed William excitedly ; "mark 
me, Mr. Constable, you have no right to pounce down on a mere 
boy in this style ! He is my brother, sir, and I intend to protect 
him." 

This alarming speech had its effect upon Snap. His fiery nose 
became a shade paler, and his bullying air changed into solemn 
serenity. 

" I beg pardon," said he, with a complacent grin, which was meant 
to be patronizing. " I'm only tryin', sir, to do my duty. If the law 
enjines it upon me to take up yer brother, it's no fault of mine." 

Here Charles thought it best to enter into a full explanation, not- 
withstanding the unwelcome presence of Mr. Clifford. William 
heard the mortifying disclosure in silence, after which he said- — 

"After all, Charlie, I am glad you whipped the scoundrel, what- 
ever may be the consequences. He richly deserved it. Don't you 
think so, Mr. Clifford?" 

" To be sure I do," answered that gentleman, cordially. " By the 
way, Charles, we will go with you to the village ; and, as I have a 
smattering of the law in my head, I will defend you. So, Constable, 
lead on ! " 






THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 133 

William offered his horse to Charles, as also did Mr. Clifford ; but 
this kindness was promptly but politely refused. The whole party 
then started slowly to the town, the prisoner walking in advance. 
They had just emerged from the woodland when a horse was seen 
two or three hundred yards in front of them standing beside a solit- 
ary tree, several rods away from the main road. Near him on the 
ground lay a motionless figure, apparently that of a man. On 
approaching still nearer, the apprehensions of the brothers were 
found to be fully warranted. It was their father whom they saw in 
this forlorn condition. Over his bloated face the sunlight was stream- 
ing, as it came through the overhanging branches, playing as if in 
mockery with his whitened locks. 

" My God! has it come to this ?" exclaimed William, hastily dis- 
mounting, and hurrying with his brother to the side of their father. 
Their alarm at first was very great, for they feared he had received 
some terrible injury from the fall; but on examination it was discov- 
ered that no special harm had befallen him, and that after having 
fallen from the horse in the easiest way possible, he had relapsed 
into a profound and healthy slumber. 

" Bless me !" said Snap attacking the side of his head with his fin- 
gers — " How did it happen, Jack, that we did not see the old man 
when we passed along here awhile ago ? It kind o' gits me, Jack, 
don't it you?" 

" To be sure it does," replied Jack — " But I guess as how we had 
sot our minds so hard on takin' up this 'ere young chap that we 
wouldn.t have seed an elephant ten steps from the eends of our 
noses!" 

Snap was perfectly satisfied with this explanation. In the mean- 
time as Clifford sat on his horse gazing at the unfortunate man, his 
face, at the moment when he was not noticed, assumed an express- 
ion which was malignant and truly diabolical ! What had that poor 
father, or those fair young men, done to him to excite the worst pas- 
sions of fallen nature ? Why is it that William Belgrave has taken 
this dangerous man to his confidence, believing him to be a very 
dear and devoted friend ? For an answer to these questions, we must 
wait the revelations of the future. 

Mr. Belgrave was at length successfully aroused. On assuming a 
sitting posture with his back against the tree, he began to comprehend 
the fact that his eldest son was present, as well as others, all being 
witnesses of his disgrace. A pang of self-reproach and self-loathing 
penetrated his heart. 



134 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

" O God ! forgive me," he groaned in utter agony, pressing his face 
down against his open hands, from which the tears were trickling 
drop by drop upon the ground. " O God ! save me from this intoler- 
able thirst ! Save me from this fire' of hell which is burning my 
body and consuming my soul ! " 

William and Charles were both profoundly moved by this appeal ; 
and even Snap and Morgan, whose souls were constructed on the 
narrow guage principle, were driven from their usual stolid indiffer- 
ence. Clifford, too, felt himself called on to exhibit a show of com- 
passion, which he did with the artfulness of a hypocrite, even Charles, 
as he loked on the young man, felt that his first impression in regard 
to him was unjust. After all needful explanations had been made, 
it was arranged according to the proposition of Clifford that William 
should return home with his father, and that Charles accompanied 
by his brother's friend as legal adviser, should proceed at once to 
the village. This was immediately carried into effect. 

A crowd of men had already assembled at Justice Coop's office, 
when the prisoner put in his appearance. The Justice was already 
seated on his throne, which was composed of a dismantled chair, and 
near him sat the prosecuting witness, Martin, with his right eye in 
deep mourning, and with a livid contusion near the extremity of his 
nose ! It required but one scrutinizing glance around him, to con- 
vince Clifford that if the case were to be decided by the Justice, and 
not by a jury, Charles would be certainly defeated. He felt that the 
cause was already prejudged adversely ; and that whatever he meant 
to do in the future against the interest of the Belgrave family, it was 
evident from the promptness and intelligence with which he took 
hold of the case, that he determined on this occasion, to do his whole 
duty. 

" May it please the court, " said he, rising in his place and address- 
ing the Justice, "to heed the few remarks which I design to make as 
counsel for my young friend here, Mr. Belgrave. It is thought best 
by my client, and also by myself, that this examination take place 
before a jury. Your Honor will hardly object to this course, as it 
will relieve you from resposibility, so far at least as the verdict is 
concerned. " 

At this there was a general expression of surprise on the part of 
of spectators who crowded the little room. The Justice frowned, bit 
his lip, and displayed other symptoms of high displeasure. 

"Whether you be a lawyer or not, sir," said he, giving his hand a 
tragic sweep, and puffing out his fat cheeks imperiously, " I want to 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 135 

tell you that you are too young to learn this Court anything. If the 
Court knows herself, and she think she do, I 'm Judge and Jury 
here, and I intends to hold on like grim death to my 'ficial rights ; 
I call up the case, and now, Mr. Martin, what do you know about this 
'ere scrimmage?" 

After these remarks had been made, Mr. Clifford found it useless 
to contend any farther for a fair trial. He took his seat in silence, 
intending, however, to watch the case as it progressed, and manage 
it as well as circumstances would permit. The testimony of Martin 
and his soaked retainers, was badly damaging to Charlie. They 
swore positively that he was the aggressor, both in offensive lan- 
guage and striking the first blow. The prosecution then rested in 
triumph. 

"Charles," whispered Clifford to his young friend, "if you recog- 
nize any well-disposed persons here who were present at the fight, 
let them now be called to the stand." 

Charles here gave him the names of several persons, who, on 
motion of Clifford, presented themselves and took the oath. These 
witnesses, six in all, testified that Martin struck the first blow ; 
yet in spite of this overwhelming evidence, the justice decided that 
the defendant was guilty, and imposed on him a fine which was 
largely in excess of the limitation prescribed by law in such cases, 
declaring also that in default of the payment of such fine, the pris- 
oner should be sent forthwith to the county jail. This was a gross 
outrage on personal rights, so much so indeed that Clifford sprang 
to his feet, stepped to the desk, took up the Code of the State which 
had been lying there unused by the learned Dogberry, and, after a 
brief examination, thus gave vent to his feelings : 

"I have here, your Honor, the statutes of your State. I have 
turned to the section which defines the crime which has here been 
discussed, and which affixes the penalty. You can see yourself, hand- 
ing the volume to the Justice open at a given place, that the fine 
you have imposed is unlawful, and monstrously unjust. The evi- 
dence, as you know, should have acquitted the prisoner, and he 
should have gone out of this Court free from all censure. His unfor- 
tunate father was betrayed this day into an awful disgrace by the 
prosecuting witness, and his confederates in villany ; and this son, 
so deeply wounded in his feelings, has simply taught a bad man a 
merited lesson ; but after all, despite the shameless character of this 
mock trial, the fine will at once be paid if you reduce it so as to 



136 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

make it accord with the provisions of the law. I trust you will 
do this, not only for the sake of my client who has been outraged 
in his rights, but for the sake of yourself, who by your own act have 
subjected yourself to prosecution for imposing a fine of this character." 

Clifford had spoken with so much authority, and withal so impetu- 
ously, that he met with no interruption from first to last. His hear- 
ers were taken back by surprise ; and it was not until he had resumed 
his seat, that a burst of frantic opposition confronted him. Martin 
sat with clenched hands in a state of fury, while his adherents 
waited to be led by him into a general battle. The color of the 
Justice's face turned from black to blue, and from blue to livid, until 
his great soul at last found relief in words. 

" Don't know my duty, don't I ? " thundered he — "Must I, 'Squire 
Joseph Coops, elected Justice of the peace of this 'ere township by 
the sovring voters of the same, be run over by this swelled toad of 
an upstart who knows no more about law nor a buck nigger from 
Guinea? Gentlemen, this shan't be — Timothy Snap, I order you to 
take up that feller what just now spoke, fur contempt of Court ! " 

Timothy, in obedience to this command, undertook to make a 
prompt capture, followed up closely by Martin and his myrmidons ; 
but the moment in which he placed his hand on the shoulder of the 
young man, a direct punch in the stomach doubled him up in a 
woful manner, causing him to make a ludicrous retreat. Seeing this 
disaster, the 'Squire, oppressed with rage, called loudly on bystand- 
ers to assist the officer in the discharge of his duty. Jack Morgan, 
therefore, essayed to vindicate the majesty of the law, but was 
forced to recede with a dismal, half-uttered groan, as he felt the wind 
taken out of his sails by a well-directed blow in the breast from the 
fist of Clifford. 

At this stage of the conflict, the fury of the justice became sub- 
lime. Standing behind his desk, which formed a barricade, his 
great arms swinging to-and-fro, and his huge, bloated body shaking 
like a hogshead of jelly, he was certainly an object of awe, if not of 
admiration. 

" In the name of the State of Ohio," yelled he, in a whirlwind of 
passion, " I command every good man here to come to the work, 
and help nab that mis'able varmint ! Come, one and all." 

But he counted without his host, for there were many men in the 
crowd who had been thoroughly disgusted at his one-sided course in 
regard to the verdict and the fine. They therefore decided to take a 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 137 

neutral position, knowing well that no intelligent Court in the land 
would ever give them any trouble for refusing to obey this ignorant 
and arbitrary Justice. Martin, supported as he was by his retainers, 
felt himself called on to wade into the conflict ; but the first offensive 
pass which he made at Clifford was knocked aside, and a blow, like 
that of a young thunderbolt, delivered from the hand of Charles, 
who had come to his friend's assistance, took full effect on his 
already irritated nostrils, and he sank back on his seat with a groan 
of dismay ! 

" Now, Charles," hurriedly whispered Clifford to his friend, " es- 
cape by this open window, in the confusion. You know the coun- 
try well. Meet me in half an hour, or less, at the hill where we met 
a few hours since." 

For a moment Charles hesitated, disliking to leave his companion 
in the hands of the Philistines ; but an admonishing look from Clif- 
ford decided him. Turning around, and placing his hands firmly 
against the window sill, he made one vaulting spring, striking an 
instant afterward on the ground outside of the building. Away he 
went like a shot toward the place of rendezvous. 

In the meantime a pause ensued in the battle. The 'Squire and 
his confederates held their breath in mute surprise as they saw the 
lithe form of young Belgrave flying through the open window ; and 
before they recovered from their stupor, Clifford sprang to the door 
which was ajar, threw it wide open, ran to the place where his horse 
was hitched, and, having mounted him in hot haste, he sped away 
like a dashing cavalier of the olden time. 

" Snap, Morgan, men ! what are you doing ? " shrieked the Justice 
in consternation. "Off, every man of you, and bring the cusses to 
me, dead or alive ! Be quick, or you'll not take 'em." 

The vast body of his hearers paid no attention to these remarks. 
Snap and Morgan flew to their horses, while Martin, and perhaps 
half a dozen others, took the feeble contract of hunting down the 
game on foot. Forth these footmen went from the house with dis- 
cordant yells, exciting every whiffet and cur in the village. But they 
had not proceeded more than a hundred yards, with a blazing sun at 
their back, before they came to a dead halt, resolving to return to 
the saloon and wet their whistles, ere they renewed the chase. 

Charles, after leaving the house, avoided the main road. Speed- 
ing across the fields, he soon reached the forest, where, finding a 
little bridle-path, with which he was well acquainted, he sped on his 



138 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

way with great rapidity. The path was more direct than the main 
road, and he reached the place of rendezvous before the arrival of 
Clifford. Seating himself on a log at the foot of Painter's hill, he 
waited anxiously for the coming of his friend. Soon he heard the 
quick tramp of a horse's feet, and a moment afterward Clifford 
came in view. Dashing up to the side of Charles, he exclaimed 
quickly — 

" We are pursued. Before I reached the forest, I saw the two offi- 
cers, whom I thought I had disabled, mount their horses and ride 
furiously in this direction. There is no time to lose. I propose that 
you mount in my place, and escape, while I shall take to the woods." 

" That will never do," replied Charles ; "I know this forest much 
better than you do, and am sure that I can baffle all pursuit. Keep 
to your horse, and never pause in your flight until you reach my 
father's residence. There you will be secreted. Now go, and may 
God bless you." 

Even as he spoke, the sound of pursuit became audible. Certain- 
ly there was no time to lose. Clifford looked for a moment in the 
face of his young companion, and then, clapping spurs to his steed, 
he dashed up the hill with a speed which defied successful pursuit. 

Charles did not remain a moment at the place of separation ; 
retreating a little distance from the road, he secreted himself among 
the bushes to await developments. Directly the two officers came in 
sight. Snap was mounted on a large, clumsy horse, whose violent 
but not very rapid motions gave his rider great uneasiness, for it 
must be admitted that he was not yet recovered from the Woav which 
he had received from Clifford. The steed bestridden by Morgan 
was the counterpart of Don Ouixot's Rosinante, made up of project- 
ing ribs and acute angles. He was already badly blown ; and his 
rider, too, had a sickly look, as though the world, or rather the blow 
which had knocked him from his underpinning, had gone roughly 
with him. 

" I say, Snap," Morgan was heard to remark, as they drew rein at 
the foot of the hill, "it's no use talkin'. These hosses wouldn't nev- 
er run down a snail ! It won't do, Snap, I'm as dry as a powder 
flask, and I propose to go back to town, wet up, and try it over again 
again to-night." 

This proposition was at once accepted, and the two worthies 
returned to town. 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. . 139 

From his place of concealment, Charles was well pleased to hear 
what was said ; and when the officers had disappeard from sight, he 
started on his way homeward, avoiding the great road as much as 
possible. 



140 . THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 



CHAPTER IV. 

When Mr. Belgrave reached his home, he was so utterly prostra- 
ted that William was obliged to assist him from the horse, and sup- 
port his tottering steps to the house. As the son opened the door, 
he said — 

" Father, shall I conduct you to mother's room ?" 

" No, no, not now," replied the father, spirit-broken; "I am 
ashamed to go into her presence, looking and feeling as I do. Take 
me quietly to some other apartment, and leave me alone to my mis- 
ery ; then go to her, William, and tell her how deeply I deplore what 
has taken place. God help me ! God help me!" 

"Cheer up, father," said William, conducting him in a neat, well 
ventilated room on the second floor ; "you take this matter to heart 
too much. I trust that years of happiness are yet reserved for you 
and mother, and for all of your children." 

" Oh, my God ! how shall I get rid of this thirst — this devouring 
fire ? " groaned the sufferer, covering his face with his hands ; "must 
this demon ever pursue me ? Will he give me no rest or respite 
till I sleep in the cold grave ? " 

"Do calm yourself, dear father," replied the son, profoundly 
moved. " Let me go at once, and order Dinah to prepare you some 
needed nourishment. A cup of strong coffee will doubtless strength- 
en your nerves. I will return in a few minutes, bringing you word 
in regard to the condition of mother." 

Just then the door opened, and bright, flashing Bessie, the pet of 
the household, entered, and ran to her father's embrace. 

" Oh, pa, I'm so glad you've come home," she exclaimed, kissing 
his sorrowful face. " Ma has wanted you to come so bad, and she's 
been so sick all day, with a fever." 

" God bless you, my child ! " sobbed the father, in broken accents, 
returning the affectionate greeting of his daughter. 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 141 

"Why, you're sick too, Pa, for you face is as hot as fire," said the 
innocent child. " Oh, what does make you weep so, Pa!" 

William did not wait to hear an answer to this artless question, 
but silently left the room. Having proceeded to the kitchen, and 
given his instructions to Dinah, a favorite colored servant brought 
from Virginia, he immediately went to the apartment of his mother, 
whom he had left sick in the morning. She was no better, and 
would likely be no better so long as her husband continued his 
debauch, which he had kept up day and night, without intermission, 
for more than two weeks. It was evident that her disease was 
almost wholly of the mental character, always so difficult to be 
reached by any remedial agency. 

"How is your father, William?" was her first eager inquiry. 
" Bessie tells me he has returned, and she, poor child, has gone to 
comfort him. Has he now come home to remain ? " 

" Yes, he has," replied the son, encouragingly. — "He promised 
me faithfully that he would return no more to that place of dishonor 
and death ! " 

" God be thanked," exclaimed the wife, clasping her hands in joy. 
" I want you to bring him to my room as soon as you can, for he 
needs the comforting presence of his wife. But stop, my son : why 
did not Charles and your friend, Mr. Clifford, return with you ?" 

William disliked very much to reply to this question, deprecating 
the effect which would be produced on his mother ; but, as he was 
no adept in deception, he truthfully detailed the circumstances with 
which he was acquainted, relieving them, as far as truth would per- 
mit, from their rougher and harsher outlines. 

" And now, dear mother," said he in conclusion, "don't trouble 
yourself about brother, he is abundantly able to take care of him- 
self; and if he were not, Mr. Clifford would bring him off without 
difficulty, I am sure." 

" How long have you been acquainted with Mr. Clifford?" casu- 
ally inquired Mrs. Belgrave, drawn off by a new thought. "It seems 
to me I have seen him before, but where I cannot tell. In many 
respects he resembles our own family wonderfully." 

" My first impression in regard to him," replied the son, " was the 
same as yours ; but I am now convinced that we are both in error as 
to having seen him before. He is a young lawyer, living in Rich- 
mond, Virginia, and he is now traveling in the West, to see the 
country and recuperate his health, which had been impaired by too 



142 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

much study. He came to Circleville, a short time ago, where, 
having met him just after his arrival, I soon learned to admire him 
for his genial qualities and quick intelligence. Hearing from me 
that I designed to visit home this summer, he expressed a desire to 
see this county. I then invited him to come with me, knowing well 
that you would be much pleased with his society." 

"Well, my son, you must now bring your father," said the 
mother. 

William did as he was bidden, as far at least as he was able to 
execute orders ; for he found his father in such a state of nervous 
dread and horror, that he thought it best not to remove him. His 
agony of mind and body seemed to be intolerable. Bessie, all 
unconscious of the cause which had produced his condition, still 
clung to his embrace, weeping, and yet striving to comfort him. Just 
then Dinah appeared at the door with a tray, which contained the 
required nourishment. William took it from her hand, dismissed 
her civilly, and then proceeded to the bed. 

" Here father, here is some refreshment for you," said he, cheer- 
fully. "Here is some glorious coffee, of Dinah's own manufacture. 
Come, take it, and it will make your nerves as straight as the Ten 
Commandments." 

The sufferer complied, as Bessie clambered down from the bed 
and took a seat at its side. The strong coffee, mingled with other 
nourishment, gave Mr. Belgrave much relief, for the time at least. 

" Now, William," said he, "take Bessie and return to your moth- 
er. Tell her that I am going to try to sleep, after which I will join 
her with pleasure, and then, I trust, we shall be happy." 

Greatly comforted, the son and daughter retired ; and as they were 
passing down the stairway, the front door opened and Clifford made 
his appearance. William hastened forward with extended hand to 
meet him. 

" My brother, Ashton, is not with you ?" said he anxiously. "Has 
he then fallen a prey to the whiskey wolves in town ?" 

"No, not quite so bad as that," replied Clifford, with a sorry 
attempt to laugh. " Charles will be here presently; but I have an 
explanation to make, which must be made promptly." 

Meanwhile, Bessie had gone to her mother's room ; and Clifford, 
without danger of interruption, proceeded to narrate the adventures 
of the day, concluding as follows : 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 148 

" The Justice is not only intensely ignorant, but vindictive like- 
wise. Both your brother and myself have bearded him in his den. 
Two of his subalterns are already in hot pursuit ; and if they fail he 
will dispatch the entire posse of the township after us. You must 
find me a place of concealment at once, as I do not wish to be 
nabbed by these fellows while their blood is at fever heat. They 
would lynch me without mercy ! " 

Looking out at the window near which he stood, William saw his 
two younger brothers who had returned from the field where they 
had been at work. 

" I have it," said he, reflectively — "Clifford, do you pass into the 
parlor, and remain there while I go and give directions to my broth- 
ers. George will take care of your horse while John will watch the 
road until dark, so as to give us timely warning of the enemy's ap- 
proach. It must now be supper-time." 

These arrangements were immediately carried into effect, after 
which the bell from the kitchen announced tea. A somewhat com- 
fortless party, consisting of William, Clifford, George, and Bessie, 
surrounded the table. A hurried meal was taken, at the close of 
which Clifford remarked — "It's very strange that those two pursuers 
have not yet come up. They must have changed their notion, and 
gone back for reinforcements of men and whiskey, feeling them- 
selves too feeble to make the arrest without help." 

"That's just my opinion," replied William as George and Bessie 
retired from the table to their mother's room — " I am satisfied that 
we have not seen the last of our troubles yet. Coops and Snap will 
not leave a stone unturned to carry out their revenge ; and it is very 
likely that a dozen armed ruffians, ready for lynching and murder, 
will surround this house at dead of night. At all events, these 
men must be resisted, for it would be death to fall into their hands. 
When Charles comes, he will conduct you to a room in the upper 
part of the house, the rear windows of which, being up, overlook 
the kitchen. If the worst comes, you and he can escape by the 
windows, and reach the ground in the darkness, as the lower part of 
the kitchen roof is but a few feet from the earth." 

" You have contrived this very well," remarked Clifford, with a 
smile; "but I trust we shall not be compelled to try this last expe- 
dient. I have my pistols ready for action, and I presume you have 
yours also. What other arms have you about the house?" 



i44 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

" A rifle and a double-barreled shot-gun," replied the other, "both 
of which are well loaded, and ready for service. I hope in God, 
however, that we shall not be forced to use these deadly weapons. 
Besides the injury to others, the excitement of such a scene as this 
would, in their present state of feebleness, probably kill my father 
and mother ! I cannot think of the dreadful consequences which 
might ensue ! I have already seen to it that the doors shall be 
promptly locked and bolted on the first alarm. By the way, Clif- 
ford, you may return to the parlor, if you please, while I return to 
relieve John. The boy must need his supper very badly." 

On emerging into the open air, William saw that the sun, now 
nearly down, was obscured by a mass of heavy clouds. A long roll 
of thunder in the West indicated a coming storm. He stepped up 
to his brother, sent him back to the house, and took his place. When 
John returned to relieve him, the night had set in dark and gloomy. 
The storm, though slow in approach, was surely coming, crowding 
all the Western skies with ominous clouds ! The flashes of lightning 
and the peals of thunder had became almost incessant. 

" John, are you afraid to stay here a few minutes longer ?" inquired 
William. 

Before the brother could reply, Clifford made his appearance, 
expressing his design to play the sentinel for awhile. On returning 
to the house, William passed silently to the room occupied by his 
father, hoping to find the patient in a healthy sleep. He made the 
least possible noise as he entered in the dark ; but what was his dis- 
may wlien, on passing his hand gently over the bed, he discovered 
that his father was absent ! As he stood in mute surprise, a flash of 
lightning revealed the figure of Mr. Belgrave standing at a window 
near by. His features were frightfully distorted ; and, to the horror of 
the son, his right hand clutched a fearful instrument, which William, 
in the temporary light, recognized as an open razor ! William knew 
that his father meditated self-destruction, and he spoke out as quickly 
as he could find utterance — 

" Father, you want a light here, don't you ? I will bring you one 
presently." 

Taken by surprise, Mr. Belgrave started, dropping as he did so the 
razor to the floor. Without alarming the family, William procured a 
light and hastily returned. He found his father quietly sitting on 
the side of the bed. The mad glare, which had convulsed his fea- 
tures, was gone ; but an expression of unutterable woe was in its 
place. 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 145 

"I thought, dear father," said he, soothingly, "that you were 
quietly enjoying a sound sleep." 

" I could not sleep," replied the other, with a shudder. " I have 
had such awful visions in the last hour that they have nearly distrac- 
ted me ! My son, if you expect to help me out of this terrible trial, 
you must furnish me with more stimulants ! It this is not done, and 
done speedily, I shall not be answerable for consequences. I shall 
be dead before the morning light — dead, possibly, by my own hand ! 
My brain and my blood are both on fire — on fire of hell ! " 

There was a dreadful earnestness in all he said, which went to the 
heart of his son. It was clear he needed a physician, and one must 
be sent for at tbe earliest period. 

" Cheer up, father, and I'll send for assistance right away, or go 
myself," said Wiliiam — " If I go, I shall send some one to you to 
keep you company. Take heart, and it will all come out right, 
yet." 

Passing round to the foot of the bed, and picking up the razor 
unobserved, William went out of the house to join Clifford, to 
whom, without referring to the attempted suicide, he detailed the 
condition of his father. 

"I'm sure," returned Clifford, "that a judicious use of stimulants 
will help him. If the messenger you propose to send to the village 
fails to find the physician, instruct him to bring back a quantity of 
liquor. But it's an awful night to go on an errand like this. Who 
will go ? " 

"I must, I presume," replied William — "John is too young to 
brave a storm like that which is coming. Now Ashton, while I am 
absent, you will do me a great favor if you remain in the room with 
father all the time. Do not permit him to be alone. It is hardly 
possible, I think, for our enemies to venture out in the storm ; and 
they will leave us in quiet until the after part of the night. Now go 
at once, and I will take a horse, and proceed to town." 

Before starting, William took the precaution to disguise himself 
as well as he was able, fearing that the officers, should they see him, 
might confound him with his brother, or make him responsible for 
his brother's alleged transgressions. 

Forty years ago my father was practicing medicine in the village ; 
and I well remember the night during which William rode up to our 
house in furious haste. It was perhaps eleven o'clock ; and the tem- 
pest which had been imminent for hours, was ready to burst over us 
10 



146 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

in wrath. My father was absent in the country on professional duty ; 
and as soon as William learned this, he turned with a sigh to go to 
the saloon, as it was the only place in town at which liquor could be 
obtained. 

Riding up to the door of the saloon, which was open, he saw to 
his consternation that the room was crowded with a set of drunken 
ruffians. He knew what all this meant ; for he was certain, from 
all indications, that these desperadoes were preparing for a raid before 
morning on his father's dwelling. Drawing up the collar of his coat, 
bringing down his hat closely over his brow, and keeping in the 
back-ground as far as possible, he called for the saloon-keeper to 
come to the door. The obsequious Martin, eager to make money, 
answered the summons. William handed him the jug, and paid 
him for a half-gallon of whisky, telling him to return without delay. 
While Martin was employed in turning out the liquor, two or three 
of the ruffians, among whom was Snap, came to the door to inspect 
the new comer. At first William's disguise baffled them ; and not 
until the jug had been returned, did Snap look down at the horse 
on which the young man was riding. He started with surprise. 

"By Heavens!" thundered he, turning to his retainers — "that's 
Belgrave's hoss, and that's Charles Belgrave on him, sure's my 
name's Snap ! To hoss men, to hoss ! " 

William waited to hear no more, but turned his horse's head, and 
was off like an arrow from a bow. He never slackened his speed 
until he reached Painter's Hill, at which place the elements were 
let loose on him in all their mad triumph. The wind swept through 
the forest with terrific violence, driving the branches from the 
trees, and in some instances uprooting the trees themselves. At 
several points, William found difficulty in getting through the debris 
caused by the tempest ; and the wonder is that he was neither unsad- 
dled by the force of the wind, nor killed by the missiles hurtling 
through the air. Then came the rain in vast sheets, flooding the 
country. 

"I'm glad of all this," said William to himself — "True it's rather 
dissagreeable to man and horse, but it will have the effect to keep 
those fiends from following as soon as they expected. I do not see 
nor hear any signs of their coming." 

Having reached the top of the hill, he went on at a more rapid 
rate, as the country was more open, and it was not long before he 
arrived at his father's residence. He took the horse to the stable, 






THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 14? 

and having seen to his wants as well as he was able in the dark, he 
picked up the jug and repaired to the house. The rain was still 
falling in torrents and he was soaked to the skin. 

Without changing his clothes, he went at once to his father's 
room, where a scene of painful interest met his view. His father was 
in convulsions, held down by the united strength of Clifford, John, 
and George. Bessie was weeping in a corner, while Mrs. Belgrave, 
whose feeble limbs had been assisted to the apartment, was seated 
in an arm-chair at the foot of the bed, in an abandonment of grief 
and sorrow. 

"I'm glad you're come, said Clifford, perceiving William — "Did 
you bring the Doctor with you ? " 

"No," replied the other — "He was not at home; but I brought 
the article which you thought necessary." 

"Well, come and take my place here," returned Clifford ; "and I 
will go to the kitchen, and prepare the medicine." 

William took time, however, to make a hasty change of clothing, 
returning from which, Clifford departed on his mission, and William 
was left again with his father. A calmness now came over him, for 
the time, and his reason was partially reinstated. Recognizing his 
son, he exclaimed joyfully — "You here, my boy! Thank God! 
You have come, hav'nt you, to rid this bed and these walls of those 
slimy monsters which are creeping and crawling all around ? This 
room has been full of them, packed up to the ceiling ! By the way 
William, there was a devil here a little time ago, who tried to choke 
me to death. He looked like General Norman ; and there were 
four thousand spiders — great, black, ugly, and venomous spiders — 
crawling all over his face. But then, William, the worst of all is 
this fire here — here in my breast, and here in my brain — is consum- 
ing me to ashes ! " 

"We will bring you help soon," said William cheeringly — " I've 
brought you some medicine from town which will do you good." 

Just then Clifford returned with the liquor which Dinah had helped 
him prepare ; but the moment the patient saw the new-comer, his 
paroxysms returned with all their fury. 

" Take him away ! For God's sake take him away ! " exclaimed 
he, retreating to the farthest corner of the bed, and trembling in 
every limb — "General Leslie Norman, why are you here to tor- 
ment me?" 

From some cause not easily explained, the hand of Clifford shook 
visibly, and some of the contents of the glass which he held were 



148 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

spilled on the floor. An expression of surprise, or displeasure, or 
both, shaded his handsome features. 

"Here, William," said he handing the glass to his friend, "take 
this medicine and give it to your father immediately. I imagine my 
presence on some account is disagreeable to him, and with your per- 
mission I will retire. In an hour the draught must be renewed. I 
will prepare it." 

"I'm very sorrry," remarked William in an under tone, "that he 
should take in his head such odd fancies. You may withdraw if you 
wish, and I will call you at the end of the hour." 

Clifford went away, and it was some time Before Mr. Belgrave 
could regain sufficient composure to take the medicine. After taking 
it, however, its good effect was almost instantaneous ; and the poor 
man, worn out with excitement, passed off into a gentle slumber. 
The poor mother noticed this, and her drooping spirits revived. 
Even Bessie ceased weeping, and she, with her brothers, John and 
George, went off hopefully to bed. 

" It's very strange," said Mrs. Belgrave in a low tone to William, 
"that your father should take such a dislike to your young friend. 
All the while you were gone, he seemed to be incensed at his pres- 
ence, and more than once he ordered him out of the room." 

"There is only one way to account for this, mother and that is the 
fact that persons, out of their head, indulge in every odd conceit. I 
regret that this should have happened, but still Clifford is a man 
of too much good sense to feel insulted at language, no matter how 
gross or indecorous, which is prompted by a disordered brain. Now 
mother, as father is evidently better, let me assist you to your room. 
I will take care of him through the night." 

"Well, my son, I will do as you request, but I am afraid my anxi- 
ety for Charles, who is not yet come, and for my husband also, will 
effectually keep me from sleeping." 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 149 



CHAPTER V. 

It was now between one and two o'clock in the morning. The 
ghostly hour of night, with its grim shadows and solemn witcheries, 
had passed away. The rain was pattering on the roof with greatly 
abated course ; but the muttering sound in the west, increasing in 
volume every instant, boded the quick approach of another storm. 
The patient's draught had been renewed ; and the promptness with 
which he relapsed into slumber, would have convinced a physician 
that a strong opiate had been blended with the mixture, proving that 
Clifford was pretty well acquainted with medicine as well as with 
the law. 

All the inmates of the house, except Clifford and William, who 
occupied the invalid's room as he slept, were in their beds. Even 
Dinah, the faithful old servant who had been on her feet so many 
hours, had retired to her little room communicating with the kitchen, 
and was already enjoying a tranquil repose. Mrs. Belgrave, worn 
out with uneasiness for her husband and absent son, but still piously 
hopeful of the future, had passed into a fitful slumber. 

There was profound silence in Mr. Belgrave's room, broken only 
by the deep breathing of the sleeper. At length William, impelled 
by some casual impulse, left his seat, and stepped to the window at 
the foot of the bed. Partially drawing the curtain, he looked out 
into the stormy night. At first nothing but stark darkness met his 
view ; but to his surprise a moment afterwards, a fitful gleam of 
light, like that which would eminate from a dark-lantern, was seen at 
the foot of a poplar tree not many yards from the house. Listening 
attentively, after adjusting the curtain so that the light in the cham- 
ber might not be visible, he heard the murmer of voices, seemingly 
in grave consultation. Quickly he went back to Clifford, who had 
fallen into a deep reverie, roused him, and spoke in a low, subdued 
tone — . 



150 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

" Those villains are already on us. Even now they are under the 
great poplar tree in the yard. There is no mistake in this ; and it 
now remains for us to prepare for successful resistance." 

" Charles is not here," replied the other calmly ; " and it is I, and 
I alone, of all the present inmates of the house, whom these wretches 
are seeking. If they force an entrance, the excitement which must 
follow would shock, and probably kill your father and mother. This 
must not be : and, to avoid it, I propose to go straight out to those 
villains, and give myself into their hands." 

" No, no, no !" returned William, indignantly. "As my friend, 
and as an honored guest in my father's house, you shall not be sac- 
rificed in this way. You must remain, and I will protect you at every 
hazard, whatever may be the consequences to myself or others." 

" I do not deserve this kindness — " indeed I do not," said Clifford, 
in a tone of self-abasement and remorse — " But be it as you say. If 
I go out to these men, who are professing to act under color of law, 
they will murder me in cold blood. And if I were to tell them that 
Charles is not here, they would then force an entrance into the 
dwelling to find out whether I spoke the truth or falsehood. To sac- 
rifice myself, therefore, by going out to these human wolves, mad 
with whiskey and revenge, would not help any one. By the way, 
William, I don't believe these fellows will try violence at first to 
gain admission. They will seek to enter in some peaceful way ; and 
failing in this, they will then try some harsher method. One of us 
ought by all means to be down on the first floor to reconnoitre." 

" I will go," said the other quickly. " Do you stay here, and don't 
join me until you hear the tapping, as of a cane, on the ceiling right 
under you. This will be a signal that I need you. Not a word, my 
dear friend, for I intend to go on this errand myself." 

William did not wait for an answer, but at once left the chamber. 
His feet were slippered, and he made no noise in descending the 
stairs. He knew that the lower outside doors were fastened. But 
the exceeding sultriness of the night had not permitted him to nail 
down the windows. While meditating at the foot of the stairs on 
the course the villains might adopt to secure admission, he heard 
steps in the front yard, followed by several distinct but not very loud 
raps on the front door ! Fearing that his mother, whose apartment 
was on the same floor, might be painfully disturbed if the knocks 
were repeated, he hastened to the door, and addressed the intruder 
in a low voice : 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 151 

" Who are you, sir? Whoever you are, speak low, for my father 
and mother are very sick, and must not be disturbed." 

"My name is Lawrence," answered the ruffian, falsely — "I was 
comin' over from Petersburg last night, and lost my way in the 
storm. I've traveled round, every-which-way, for hours, and this is 
the first house I have come to. My hoss has giv out, and I'm wet 
through and through. Do let me in, won't you?" 

The word "hoss," as pronounced by the man, was proof to Wil- 
liam, who had heard the same word before, from the same lips, that 
the speaker was no other than Timothy Snap, the redoubtable Con- 
stable, and the Prime Minister of Justice Coops. 

Desirous of bringing the colloquy to a close, William replied — 

"My name is William Belgrave, now on a visit home from Circle- 
ville. My brother Charles has been absent all night, I know not 
where. We are in great trouble. My parents are both very sick, 
and one of them, my father, may not live till morning. To let you 
in would be a great disturbance. Just a quarter of a mile from here 
there is a good place to stop. Go there at once, for I cannot let 
you in." 

" Is this a Christian way of doin', to turn a fellow out in such a 
night as this ?" said the intruder, gruffly — " I thought better of you 
than this. I'm all alone out here, fagged out, and stan'in' in this 
awful rain ! " 

" You speak falsely J '" returned William, bringing on the crisis; 
"Timothy Snap, I know you, and I know the object of this visit. 
You have come here, with a band of armed men, to seek my broth- 
er Charles. I tell you solemnly, he is not here, nor has he been 
here since yesterday. Go your way, and let an afflicted family 
alone." 

"I cannot think of it, sir," replied the other, sharply; "In the 
first place, I don't believe what you say about Charles ; but, if that's 
true, there's another cuss here that I'm goin' to nab, sure, afore I 
leave these 'ere diggins. I've got a warrant here to take him up, 
and now keep me out, if you dare I " 

" I w///keep you out if I can. You shall not, with your armed 
lynchers, enter this house of sickness and gloom. We are armed 
as well as yourselves ; and the first man who places a hostile foot 
inside of this dwelling, may expect a bullet through his head. You 
have my answer ; now go your way." 

William heard some inarticulate grumbling, as the villain retired 
from the door. A strong impression had doubtless been made on 



152 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

Snap ; for he was a coward of the basest kind, especially in cas es 
in which deadly weapons were employed. 

William knew, from the character of the leader, that the marau- 
ders were greatly demoralized ; and he felt sure that, instead of 
making a bold and open attack on the house, they would resort 
again to stratagem. He turned away to consult for a moment his 
friend up stairs, and, on stopping at his mother's door, he was grati- 
fied to find her in what he supposed to be a profound sleep. Joining 
his friend, it took him but a little time to relate all that had taken 
place. Five minutes, perhaps, were occupied in earnest conversa- 
tion, after which William prepared to return below to his post of 
duty. He had just reached the door of the chamber, when he was 
surprised to hear steps lightly ascending the stairs. He remained 
rooted to the spot, until a queer figure, the figure of a woman, our 
old friend, Aunt Dinah, stood within a yard of him, trembling with 
agitation . 

"Oh, massa William," said she, in a deep, excited whisper, 
placing her hand on her heart, " I'se skeered, a'most to def ! " 

"Why, what's the matter, Dinah ?" inquired the other. 

"Oh, massa, I'd jes done went to bed, and was enjoyin' my fust 
sleep, when I was awaked by a great scratchin' at the winder. I 
was shore it was de ole tom-cat, wot goes yowlin' around o ; nights. I 
sits straight up in the bed, I turns my hed toward the winder, an' 
dar, sure as you lives, massa, I see a light on de outside, an' a man's 
big, rough hand wid it, holdin' it up, I s'pose." 

" What else, Dinah, did you see ? Tell me quickly, for I am 
greatly interested in it." 

" I didn't see nuffin else, massa, kase as how I got out of dar quick 
as shutin ; but I knows dat de man I see wid de light wur tryin' fur 
to git in at de winder ! He's an orful robber, massa, an' i'se so bad 
skeered I dunno wot to do ! " 

"Well, Dinah, you need not return to the kitchen just now. 
Remain in my father's room while Mr. Clifford and I go down and 
see what is the trouble. I am very glad, Dinah, that you have shown 
your usual good sense in coming right to us, instead of going to 
mother's room. I do hope that she will not be disturbed." 

Clifford had heard every word of this conversation, and was ready 
for action. The servant took her seat in the sick-room, and the 
invalid slept on without interruption. The two young men, armed 
with pistols, softly descended the stairs. Reaching the door of the 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 153 

servant's room in the dark, they stopped a moment to make an 
examination. There was just then a lull in the elements boding the 
near approach of the second storm. They distinctly heard an omi- 
nous noise at the window, as though some one was trying to lift it 
up in spite of its damp, swollen condition. A muttered oath was 
heard, followed by a grating sound, which was caused by the stub- 
born ascent of the sash in the hands of some vigorous party out- 
side. 

At this instant a flash of lightning revealed the burly form of Tim- 
othy Snap, trying to force his way through the opening which he had 
just made. Behind him were partially seen the figures of several 
men, anxiously supporting the movements of their chief. 

"Jack," whispered Snap, now half way through the apperture, 
" hand the lantern in soon as I gits a footin' inside." 

At this exciting moment, a terrnic peal of thunder gave Clifford, 
who, with his friend, had not been observed, an opportunity of 
speaking to William without being overheard. 

" Now is our time to act," said he, quickly ; " we must make a bold 
dash for this man, capture him at once, and draw down the window 
before his friends can follow him ! Then, if you please, leave the 
rest to me. Come, now ! " 

They made a rush at the same moment, reaching the window 
while the head of the ruffian was almost in contact with the floor, 
his legs and heels dangling in the opening above. Clifford grasp- 
ed his right arm, and the other was violently clutched by young 
Belgrave. It took but an instant to draw the fellow, bodily, to the 
floor inside the chamber, and draw down the window to its place. 
Then, before Snap could recover from his mute astonishment, the 
cold muzzle of a pistol was pressed against his ear, and a voice of 
command — not loud, but deep — made his knees shake like an earth- 
quake : 

"Now, sir. you are in our power," spoke the voice of Clifford. 
" Mark what I tell you — if you fail in any respect to do our bidding, 
here and now, your brains will be blown out against these walls. It 
is useless for you to struggle, for your arms are firmly held to your 
side. We will assist you to your feet, and then present you the 
alternative of either ordering your own men away from the house, 
or of dying here like a DOG by our hands ! " 

These words were uttered in a low, but decided voice, chilling to 
the heart of the listener. The group of men outside, surprised by 



154 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

the fall of the window, and by other unexpected circumstances, fell 
back a few paces in confusion. A mystery was here, which they 
could not explain. Morgan, however, more resolute than the others, 
tried to rally their courage ; and he was just in the act of leading 
them up to the window on a journey of discovery for their lost 
leader, when the voice of Snap rang in their ears — 

''My men," spoke the captive leader, in tones which were heard 
above the roar of the elements, "I command you to go to your 
hosses afore the storm breaks, and I'll jine you in a twinklin'. Do 
as I tell you, and do it quick, for tkars no time to lose / " 

It is difficult to tell what would have been the effect of this most 
extraordinary exhortation, if a clap of most intense thunder break- 
ing overhead, had not excited the fears of the assailants. All at once 
they became panic-stricken, and dashing away in a body, like a flock 
of demoralized sheep, they sprang over the fence into the road, 
hunted up their horses some distance away, and rode off with great 
rapidity. 

So much noise had they made in retreating, that the party in the 
servant's room were apprised of their movements. 

Snap ground his teeth in impotent rage as he felt his arms closely 
pinioned behind him with a rope, which William had taken from 
the bed. After this a light was obtained, revealing to spectators the 
disconsolate appearance of the captive officer. William now had 
time to visit the sick rooms, leaving the prisoner in the care of Clif- 
ford. On his way to his mother's apartment, he thought he heard 
steps again in the front yard, but was not altogether certain. His 
heart beat quickly, and as he approached the door, he heard some 
one trying to open it. 

"Is it possible," thought he, " that those miscreants have 
returned?" Just then he heard the voice of some person calling 
for admission. How great was his joy to recognize the voice of his 
absent brother ! Mrs. Belgrave, with a mother's sharp instinct, 
heard that voice ; and, weak as she was, sprang out of bed to meet 
her returning son. 

" Oh, my boy, my boy!" she exclaimed, the moment his figure 
was visible in the door-way. " Thank God that you have come 
back to us again ! " 

When the door was re-fastened, the mother and sons returned to 
her chamber, where Charles, after divesting himself of his wet gar- 
ments, proceeded to detail his night's adventures. 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 155 

" It's a short story, and soon told. I thought I knew every foot of 
country around here for miles ; but, after leaving Mr. Clifford, when 
the storm came up I lost my way in the darkness, and wandered 
about indefinitely, until a little while ago, I struck the main road at 
a point known to me. A quarter of a mile from here, a party of 
drunken horsemen passepl like a whirlwind, without seeing me. 
Fearing that they had been doing mischief here, I hastened home 
with all speed." 

"I am very thankful, my boy," said the mother, affectionately, 
"that you are with us again. Your father, Charles, has been very 
sick all night ; but, from what William tells me, I am thankful to 
know that he is improving rapidly, and I trust he will be well again 
in a few days. But, my dear sons, has it been fancy which has 
taught me to believe that strange circumstances have taken place in 
and about this house to-night ? What is that, Charles, which you 
said about horsemen, and about their possible design to do us mis- 
chief ? Has there been any attempt to make arrests during this 
stormy night?" 

" I must tell you, mother, all about it," replied William, anticipating 
his brother's response to the questions. " I hope now, that father is 
better, you will be able to bear it." 

William then proceeded to describe all that had occurred, not even 
omitting the slightest circumstance which, in his opinion, ought to 
have been told. He concluded as follows : 

"Now, mother, you, as well as Charles, have it all. My first care 
shall be to go and consult with Clifford, who has been of such signal 
service to us, as to the best manner of disposing of our prisoner. 
After that, if there is to be a renewal of these ruffianly scenes, I shall 
go at once to the county-seat, and invoke the protection of the law 
against a band, not of officers executing justice, but against a band 
of outlaws and desperadoes, acting in the interests of Satan and bad 
whiskey. It is very strange indeed that men, freemen born, can 
find- in this good State of Ohio no remedy against false fines and 
false imprisonment, imposed on them by an ignorant, vindictive, and 
bloated Justice of the Peace. Be assured, dear mother, that bad as 
the outlook is now, and strong and relentless as our persecutors seem 
to be, it will not be long before every wrong which has been inflicted 
on us shall be righted, and we shall come out of this heavy trial with 
the conciousness that God, in His providence, does not forsake those 
who put their trust in Him. Now, Charles, I presume you would 



156 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

desire to visit for a moment the chamber up stairs where father is 
lying ; and after that you must retire to bed, for you surely need rest 
after your night's wandering. Tell Dinah, who is with father, that 
in a few minutes I will take her place as watcher, so that she may 
have some needed sleep." 

Charles would have preferred to remain up, assisting in whatever 
was to be done, but his brother would not listen to this arrangement. 
He, therefore, left the room and as he was proceeding to the stair- 
way, his attention was arrested by the violent dashing of the rain 
against the windows and western side of the house. It was nearly 
morning, and the storm was at its height. The vivid lightning fit- 
fully illuminated the rooms, and the successive peals of thunder 
shook the large, old building to its foundation. 

Walking along in a thoughtful mood, the young man was in 
the act of placing his foot on the first step of the stairs, when the 
sound of voices, issuing from the servant's room, came to his ear in 
a brief pause in the tempest. He was aware that Clifford was in that 
room, in charge of his prisoner. It was not strange at all that a con- 
versation should take place between the two men ; but some feeling 
for which he could not account impelled the listener to pause in his 
way, and heed the words which might be said. It was very difficult, 
however, on account of the storm without, for him to catch anything 
but disjointed sentences. Snap had just been speaking, and it was 
his voice which first had attracted Charles's attention. Clifford was 
now replying ; and among the many sentences he uttered, the young 
man heard the following : 

"Now, sir, we perfectly understand each other. I have given you 
an earnest of what you may expect, if you and your friends shall 
prove true to the bargain which we have just made. Whenever /I 
shall need you or them, you and they must be ready to do without 
question whatever you are bidden to do, and mark me, as you have 
great influence with 'Squire Coops, you must not on any account 
permit this family, or myself, to be molested any more by your 
attempted arrests. Any failure on your part to comply with these 
conditions — " 

The remainder of this sentence, and in fact, the remaining part 
of the conversation which did not last long, were rendered inaudi- 
ble by the turbulent elements. For some moments, Charles was 
riveted to the spot. He was profoundly excited by what he had 
heard; and the old distrust of Clifford which he had instinctively 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 157 

felt on their first meeting, was renewed in all its vigor. Despite his 
youthfulness, and his want of enlarged experience, Charles was a 
young man of rare intelligence, quick perception, sound judgment, 
and great energy of character. For some time, the management of 
a large farm had to a great extent devolved on him, for his father, 
in consequence of his former bankruptcy, and his habit of periodi- 
cal dissipation, was broken down in health, hope, and activity. 

"Those words of Clifford," said the young man to himself as 
he slowly ascended the stairs, "are indeed full of mystery. What 
do they, or what can they mean ? Can there be a secret understand- 
ing between Clifford and this vile officer, of which we have had no 
knowledge ? I cannot think that this is the case. Clifford has been 
all that is generous, noble, and brave in his relation thus far to us ; 
and did he not say just now to that fellow in custody, that neither he 
nor his fellow vagabonds should molest our family again ? I must 
silence my suspicions, or at least keep them to myself." 

So thinking, Charles passed to his father's apartment, where he 
found the good old watcher, as well as the invalid himself, enjoying 
a hopeful repose. Dinah's head was thrown back against the wall, 
supported by the back of the 'chair which she was occupying. Her 
black, honest face was glistening in the light, and her mouth was 
wide open, from which issued a resounding snore. The poor old 
woman, still vigorous and well preserved, had been trudging on her 
feet in discharge of her household duties through many weary hours, 
until her over-tasked nature forced her to snatch repose in this 
awkward position. 

Meantime William who had remained with his mother a few 
minutes after the departure of Charles, left the room to join Clifford. 
Reaching the door of the servant's room, he looked in, and was sur- 
prised to see but one occupant of the apartment, and that was his 
friend. It was clear that Snap was invisible. Clifford sat by a little 
table on which a candle was burning, and his face, now turned 
toward the door, had nothing in it which excited astonishment or 
alarm. 

"Why, Ashton, what on earth does all this mean ?" questioned 
William eagerly and somewhat indignantly — "Has that villain 
escaped after all our trouble ? If this be so, the whole pack will be 
on us again without mercy before noon." 

" Not so fast, my dear friend, not so fast," replied the other in his 
customary cordial manner — "The story is brief, and will soon be 



158 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

told. Sit here on the side of the bed while- 1 tell it. There are two 
grand ways to reach men, and make them serve your purpose. One 
is by exciting their fears, and the other is by exciting their cupidity. 
Thick-headed as this man Snap is, I made him understand that the 
course which 'Squire Coops had taken, subjected him to a rigid 
prosecution for giving a false judgment against direct testimony, and 
for imposing an unlawful fine and an unlawful imprisonment. I 
made him comprehend too, from my standpoint as a lawyer, that he, 
and all others with him, who were assisting Coops in this horrible 
outrage on human liberty, would, if they did not back down from 
their position in good time, give themselves a fine chance to be fined, 
bottled up in the county jail, and possibly in the penitentiary. This 
started his fears ; and then when the proper time came, I took a few 
dollars from my pocket, and proposed to give him his freedom, as 
well as the money with which to treat himself and his friends, if in 
return he would use his best exertions to stop this wretched cru- 
sade against Charles and myself." 

" But, Ashton, tell me what satisfactory guarantee could such a man 
give that he would molest us no more ? With me his word would 
be of no account, and even his solemn oath would be worthless." 

"You must remember, William, that I worked upon his fears until 
he sued in the most abject manner, not only for his liberty, but for 
exemption from future prosecution. He was as thoroughly cowed as 
any man I ever saw; and when I made my proposition to him, 
coupled with a promise of forbearance as to legal proceedings, and 
a promise also to do something still more handsome for him if he 
succeeded in bringing the 'Squire to his senses, he was over-joyed, 
and declared he would be our friend till the latest hour in life." 

"I must say, Ashton, that, according to my judgment, you have 
done wrong in hiring, or rather bribing, this bad man to keep off 
with his hounds. I never did, and I never will, give money when I 
know it will be used to gratify a demon thirst for whiskey ! It were 
far better for us to wait in our innocence, and take all the conse- 
quences which may come to us through the lawlessness of bad men, 
than for us to save ourselves by dishonorable means." 

"You are entirely to hasty in your judgment, William. I may 
have committed an error, but I have acted, as I thought, for the best 
interests of all. Any other course than that which I have pursued, 
would only bring more trouble on our heads. If a little piece of inno- 
cent diplomacy converts a band of inveterate enemies into sworn 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 159 

friends, ready to assist rather than injure us, I don't see where the 
harm is, for the life of me. The truth is that Snap not only accepted 
my proposition along with the money* but swore in good faith that 
hostilities should cease from this hour, and that in every possible 
way he would show his friendship for us. I then led him to the rear 
door, and after unbinding him, and restoring his arms which we had 
taken away, I bade him farewell, and he passed out into the storm, 
preferring tc do this rather than to remain longer away from his 
friends who were, doubtless, uneasy about his absence. He is now 
well on his way to the village, and I am not afraid of his breaking 
faith with us." 

For more than a minute, William sat in thoughtful silence, after 
which with his characteristic frankness and good humor, he ap- 
proached Clifford to whom he extended his hand saying — 

"Forgive me, Ashton, if I have done you injustice either in word 
or deed. On questions pertaining to morals, men often honestly dif- 
fer. It is plain that you and I do not see alike in this matter ; but 
1 heartily give you credit for doing what you consider your duty. 
Instead of criticising you in a tone of sharpness, I should as I do 
now, give you the right hand of brotherly love, thanking you in 
behalf of my brother and the entire family, for the unselfish kind- 
ness you have displayed toward us in our affliction. I know that 
you need rest, and now go up to your room, and take your comfort 
until you are called to breakfast." 

" It is all right between us, William, and the balance of your stay 
at home will, I trust, be spent in happiness to yourself, and to the 
other members of the family. I am, as you suggest, somewhat 
tired and drowsy, and after seeing to your father for a moment, I will 
try what virtue there is in sleep." 

The two friends then passed up into the sick room, where the 
patient was just emerging from his deep slumber. He announced 
himself very much better. Another draught of medicine was admin- 
istered, after which Clifford went to his bed, and William took the 
place of Dinah whom, after waking, he kindly dismissed to her own 
apartment. 



160 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 



CHAPTER VI. 

It must be confessed that Dinah, stout-hearted and self-reliant as 
she was on ordinary occasions, felt some ominous misgiving as she 
was preparing to retire to her own chamber. Like the race to which 
she belonged, she was superstitious, believing in the existence of 
spirits and other supernatural agents. She hesitated before starting, 
fumbled with her turban, and at last said in a kind of spasmodic 
way — 

"O, Massa William, I neber was so skeered in all my bo'n days ! 
Dinah doesn't lub dem 'quaintances dat comes back to her from the 
udder side ob Jordan. Dey are, all ob dem, so white an' pale dat 
dey mus' be sickly; an de long white sheets dat dey allers war 
makes me tink dat dey habn't no change of clothin' in dat place 
whar dey lib. Now, Massa William, am you shore dat de ghostesses 
am all done gone away?" 

"Yes, Dinah, I am very sure of this. You will find no one down 
there to disturb you. You know that I never deceive you. You will 
find a candle burning in your room, and, by the way, daylight will 
be here directly." 

Thus assured, Dinah went her way ; and, as her moccasined 
feet tapped the stairs successively in her downward course, she 
chanted a stanza of an old hymn to keep up her courage — 

" Am I soger ob de cross, 
A follower ob de Lamb ? 

An' mus' I fear to own His cause, 
Or blush to speak His name? " 

Reaching her room, she would not trust herself to blow out the 
light, or crawl into bed, until she had placed her old Bible, which 
she could read imperfectly, under her pillow, and had offered up a 
devout prayer to God, beseeching Him to save her friends and 
herself from the visitation of spirits, and all other harmful beings. 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 161 

That night of gloom was followed by a clear and resplendent 
morning. The sun arose without a cloud to obscure his ardent 
rays ; and there was no evidence that two fierce thunder-storms had 
swept over the country during the previous night, save that which 
was found in the globules of rain in the glistening leaves and grass, 
the rivulets flowing by the wayside, and the muddy condition of the 
road. There was a very late breakfast at Mr. Belgrave's residence ; 
but the persons who gathered around the board gave decided proof 
that the cloud was lifted from the family again, and that the old 
days of cheerfulness were in a fair way of restoration. Even Mrs. 
Belgrave, who had been suffering for weeks from depression of spir- 
its and physical debility, was at her old place at the head of the 
table, presiding there with her usual dignity and grace. 

Near the mother sat the irrepressible Bessie, out of her wits with 
joy at her mother's re-appearance in the dining room. Clifford was 
there also, apparently enjoying the meal with great relish. The 
countenance of Charles was grave and thoughtful, but it betokened 
no unhappiness. William, from his place at the foot of the table, 
had, when they all sat down, offered up fervent thanks for the pres- 
ervation of their lives and for the bounteous gifts of Providence con- 
ferred on them, concluding with a devout petition for the speedy res- 
toration of his father to health and happiness. John and George, 
both of them robust and handsome lads, were at their places, luxuri- 
ating in the grand breakfast which the skillful hands of Dinah had 
provided. 

Meantime, the old servant in the kitchen was preparing breakfast 
for the invalid upstairs ; and when it was all ready, Bessie, whose 
meal had been dispatched, would not rest until she had gone up to 
her father with the cook, doing all she possibly could to make her- 
self useful. 

" Oh, Pa," she exclaimed gleefully, as she saw him partake of the 
coffee and delicacies set before him, "I am so glad that you are 
getting better. You are looking ever so much better than you did 
yesterday. You will be able to take a walk with Bessie before long, 
won't you ? The trees are very nice and shady, and the birds sing 
so sweetly, that I know you will love to hear them." 

"Yes, my child," replied the father, "I think I shall be able to 
take a walk in a day or two. I certainly feel much better, and I am 
glad to know that my little Bessie, my pet and darling, feels so deep 
an interest in her Pa's welfare." 

11 



162 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

"And Pa," she quickly inquired, as a cheering thought occurred 
to her, " did you know that Ma is down to breakfast this morning, 
looking better than she has looked for a long, long time ? " 

" Well, Puss, this is indeed good news, and I am rejoiced to hear 
it. I shall be satisfied if you bring such good news as this every 
time you come to my room." 

" But, Pa," asked the little girl, under the inspiration of another 
new idea, "why is it, that whenever you go to that naughty town, 
you always come back sick ? I asked Ma about this, but when I did 
so she looked so very, very sad, that I didn't tease her any more. 
You tell, Pa, won't you ?" 

"Honey," interposed Dinah, a little confused, "don't 'sturb 
your poor Pa any more jes now. He's very tired, and I 'spects he 
wants to sleep ag'in." 

"Yes, Puss, I do feel quite weary," returned the father, perplexed 
by the bluntness and directness of his daughter's questions. "You 
may now return with Dinah to your Ma, and when she comes up to 
see me, as she will as soon as she is able to walk up the stairs, you 
may come with her. Tell William, my pet, that I wish he would 
come up immediately, and tell him also — yes, tell him — mind you — 
to bring a Bible with him." 

Bessie went away somewhat unsatisfied, because her father had 
evaded her very important question. She brightened up, however, 
when she reached the dining room, and began to prattle extensively 
about her Pa's improved looks and appetite. Her innate sense of 
propriety, although her father had given her no instruction on the 
subject, prompted her to take William aside to communicate to him 
her Pa's request. When she did so, she perceived a sudden gleam 
of joy lighting up his countenance. His meal was ended, and excu- 
sing himself to the company, he at once withdrew to do his father's 
bidding. 

" You have answered my call quickly, my boy," said Mr. Bel- 
grave, as his son took a seat by the bedside. 

" I have had feelings this morning of an intense and bitter charac- 
ter. I have been looking over my past life, to call up the little good 
I have done in the world ; and this gloomy retrospect has resulted 
in the conviction that my life has not only been a pitiful failure, but 
I have made it such by my own wilfulness and recklessness. God 
pity me! God pity me ! True, my son, the curse of a terrible appe- 
tite was transmitted to me, but the stern reflection is that I could, for 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 163 

the asking, have had moral power every time to resist successfully 
the tempter. When but a young man — a mere lad indeed, without 
experience — I went into this life-struggle with my enemy single-han- 
ded — too proud, too stubborn, too haughty, to call upon the God 
who made me to assist me in my dire extremity ! I thought — poor 
fool that I was — that my own strong will, unhelped by Divine power 
or Divine grace, would give me a full and permanent victory over 
the habit which destroyed my father, and sent all my ancestors to 
untimely graves ! But now, after more than fifty years of my life 
have passed away in a succession of wretched failures, I beseech 
you, my boy, as the last hope I am permitted to cherish, to read to 
me whatever you may find encouraging in God's Word, and pray 
while you read, that, even at the eleventh hour, my feet may be 
placed on a sure foundation for the time to come ! " 

While he was yet speaking, he arose and sat on the side of the 
bed, gazing intently into the face of his son. The energy and pro- 
found pathos with which he spoke, thrilled the heart of his listener. 
The strong man was bowed in deep penitence, and his tears flowed 
like rain. 

"Father," said William, in a low and tremulous voice, " I thank 
God that, years ago, I came to the same crisis in my experience, to 
which you have come to-day. I reached a point where I knew — for 
my mother, and the Spirit of the Almighty, taught it to me — that my 
future life, with all its hopes and clustering interests, would be, if 
possible, worse than a failure, unless I decided, then and there, in 
the strength of a mightier Arm than mine, to dedicate myself, and 
all that I hoped to be, to the service of God. From that dav, dear 
father, in which I made a consecration of myself t6 this service, I 
have been conscious that the curse which has so long desolated our 
house would not be transmitted to me. I now walk the earth a free 
man by the grace of God, as any man may, or as any man does, who 
puts his trust in the living God. Now, as you wish it, I will read 
some portions of the Bible, which I know will give you great comfort." 

Here William read two or three of the Psalms of David, followed 
up by some appropriate chapters in the New Testament. He was a 
disciplined reader, bringing out the wonderful beauties of the Bible 
in the clearest light. And when, a little while afterward, he left his 
father to his own reflections, he felt that brighter and more glorious 
days were destined to bring their sunshine to the family. 

Several days of undisturbed tranquility came and went, during 
which Mr. Belgrave was rapidly convalescing. It was noticed that 



164 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

the chronic gloom which had overshadowed his countenance, was 
passing off,, giving place to a more serene and satisfactory express- 
ion. He seemed to enjoy the companionship of his wife and chil- 
dren more than ever. He was more equable in disposition, never 
giving way, as in former times, to sudden bursts of unrestrained 
passion. The Bible was never taken out of the room, and it seemed 
to delight him to listen to the glowing truths it contains. 

Charles and the boys were busily employed in working on the 
farm, while William and Clifford divided the time between hunting, 
fishing, and visiting the neighboring farmers. A beautiful stream, a 
creek named Rocky Fork, meandered near the house, -from which 
the two young men caught frequent supplies of delicious fish. In 
fact, the time passed on so smoothly it became monotonous ; and 
one day, while the family were at dinner, Mrs. Belgrave announced 
that she designed to give a party on the afternoon and evening of 
July 25th, in honor of her son who was now on a visit home, and in 
honor also of his friend, Mr. Clifford, who was at present a guest of 
the family. 

This announcement gave great satisfaction to all concerned ; even 
Bessie went off into ecstasies. Three weeks would yet elapse before 
the designated day, and much, very much, had to be done in the 
interval. 

"You do me great honor, Mrs. Belgrave," said Clifford, in his 
demonstrative way, " in giving this party in honor partly of a com- 
parative stranger. I thank you for this token of your esteem and 
friendship. I had intended to start in a day or two for Cincinnati ; 
but this arrangement of yours has changed my mind, and I will 
remain here to be present at the party. By the way, I must go this 
afternoon to the village to get my mail matter, which I ordered to be 
forwarded to the office there." 

An hour from that time, Clifford was seen mounted on his fine 
horse, and moving at a rapid gait toward the village. He was 
expected to return in a short time, but the afternoon wore away, and 
still he did not make his appearance. Tea-time came and passed, 
and the soft twilight, laden with its summer perfumes, was shading 
the landscape. Thick night came on ; and it was near mid-night 
before Charles, who remained up to watch his coming, admitted him 
into the house. 

" I am sorry to disturb any one at this hour," said he in a husky, 
discordant tone, totally unlike himself — " I've put my horse away, so 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 165 

that you may retire to your bed without farther interruption. I shall 
go at once to my room." 

Charles held a light in his hand ; and as Clifford hurried past, as 
though designing to avoid an interview with anyone, his flushed 
face, his tell-tale breath, and his unequal and undecided step could 
not escape observation. Charles would have offered the light to 
assist him in his erratic motions ; but he was already out of reach, 
going up the stairway in a rapid and awkward manner. 

"So it seems," thought Charles, slowly moving away from the 
door, " I am the only one who is destined to see the worst side of 
this man. I did not like his appearance at the start. I felt then 
that he was wearing a mask, and was not the friend he professed to 
be. After that I was led to believe, for a little time, that there was a 
private understanding between him and the wretches who have been 
persecuting us. And now, to cap the climax, he comes home drunk 
as a Congressman. Still, I must keep my counsel to myself. My 
brother is so infatuated, that nothing I could say would drive him 
from his friendship for this stranger. I shall say nothing as yet, 
but watch and bide my time." 

Such was the tenor of Charles's mental soliloquy ; but before he 
crept into bed, the remembrance of Clifford's many acts of kindness 
toward himself, and devotion to the family, erased from his mind, for 
the time at least, his hot suspicions. 

"Well, I can't make it out, thought he again, just before closing 
his eyes for the night; " but this much I know, that good men and 
true, are often overtaken by the temptation to drink. Should I, 
therefore, desert this man, and denounce him to my brother and to 
the world, just because he has, in an unguarded moment, done that 
which my very best friends on earth have done, and may do again ? 
God forbid that I should do this base thing ! Let me remember the 
good old lines which say — 

' That mercy I to others show, 
That mercy show to me.' " 

Some time after the middle of the night, Charles was awakened 
from a sound sleep by the loud neigh of a horse, which seemed to 
come from the direction of the road in front of the house. At first 
he thought some traveller was possibly passing along at that late 
hour; and he was just composing himself to sleep again, when two 
or three louder neighs came in quick succession, proving that the 



166 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

animal thus noisy was in a condition of frantic restiveness. It was 
as plain a call for help as any beast, without power of articulation, 
could make. Charles was fearfully drowsy, but his sympathies were 
excited, and he resolved to relieve the animal from his trouble, if it 
was in his power to do so. 

Hastily leaving the bed and throwing on some articles of dress, he 
quietly but quickly passed to the lower part of the building, and 
thence to the front yard. A suspicion of the truth had already 
flashed through his mind. The moon was shining very brightly, 
throwing its silvery light broadly and beautifully over the earth. 
The figure of a horse was plainly seen, hitched to the rack near the 
gate, and a saddle was visible on his back. The poor beast, having 
been restrained from his liberty and his oats for hours, was champing 
the bits, and pawing the earth, with uncontrolled impatience. 

" It is Ashton Clifford's horse, just as I suspected," said the young 
man to himself; "I thought last night I ought to go and see about 
him, as his owner was not exactly in his right mind ; but then I 
thought it could not be possible for a man to lose his memory so 
dreadfully as to believe he took care of an animal, when he didn't 
do any such thing. He must have been awfully drunk, and no 
mistake." 

Charles took the horse to the barn, looked after his wants, and 
then returned to his bed. It was perhaps about five o'clock in the 
morning, when the young man, who was the first usually to rise, left 
the bed, and began to dress himself. While engaged in this duty, he 
heard a light step near his door, and this was followed almost imme- 
diately by a slight tap, as though some one was demanding entrance. 
Charles opened the door, and there in the early light of morning, 
stood Clifford, fully dressed. His face was pale and anxious, and 
his boots looked as though he had been walking in the dewy grass. 
He was not an early riser by any means ; on the contrary, he was 
generally the last one to reach the breakfast table, and frequently, 
to the great disgust of Dinah, who was very systematic in her depart- 
ment, the meal was delayed to suit his criminal tardiness. 

"My dear Charles," said he, in his most fascinating style, "I hope 
I do not disturb you. I wanted very much to speak to you before 
you left your room. I was sensible that your impression in regard 
to some circumstances which took place last night, would do me 
great injustice. Have yov? time now to hear my explanation ? " 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 167 

"Yes," replied Charles in great surprise — " Come in, Mr. Clifford, 
and take a seat. Permit me to shut the door, so there may be no 
intrusion." 

" Thank you," returned Clifford, taking the proffered seat — "You 
are aware that I went to the village yesterday to obtain my mail 
matter. I am subject to severe attacks of headache, sometimes to 
the extent even of making me delirious. Riding in the hot sun 
brought on one of these attacks ; and the pain was so excessive when 
I reached town, that I went to the physician for help. He prepared 
a kind of liquid solution, with the nature of which I was not 
acquainted. By his invitation, after taking a portion of the medi- 
cine, I lay down on the lounge in the office, and went to sleep. 
When I awoke, my senses were in a disturbed condition. It was 
after night, and I was alone in the office. Alarmed at my long stay 
in the village, I hurried away to find my horse. It was with great 
difficulty I could mount him, for my head was still aching and my 
brain was in a whirl. It was in this condition I reached here last 
night. Thinking over the matter this morning, I remembered that I 
met you last night, and had some talk with you. I think I told you 
I put up my horse; but on reflection an hour or two since, I was 
convinced I did no such thing. I started out very early, almost 
before it was light, expecting to find my horse at the rack where I 
had left him ; but he must have broken away in the night, and run 
off, for my search has been without success." 

" Give yourself no uneasiness about the horse, Mr. Clifford. He 
is already safe in the barn. His neighing awoke me in the night, 
and I hastened out to take care of him." 

" I 'm very thankful to you for this kindness. You have conferred 
on me an obligation which I shall not soon forget. But tell me, 
Charles, does your brother William or any other inmate of the house 
except yourself know anything about the circumstances connected 
with my arrival here from the village ?" 

" I am glad to know, Mr. Clifford, that no one, save myself and 
you also, has any knowledge of these occurrences." 

"Well, then, I have given you, my friend, a plain and truthful 
explanation of these matters ; but innocent as I am of all intended 
wrong, I think it would be best for all if nothing be said by you or 
myself in regard to this subject. Don't you think so ? " 

"I do most certainly, for I do not wish to have any more excite- 
ment in our family. You need not fear me, for I shall say nothing 



168 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

to any one which could be construed to your prejudice, or which 
would militate against the happiness of my dear brother." 

Clifford then withdrew, with an expression of great relief on his 
countenance. We regret to say, however, that Charles was naturally 
incredulous. He did not, and could not, take for Gospel truth any 
and every proposition which was addressed to his judgment. The 
seemingly concise and conclusive explanation of Clifford did not 
satisfy him. The following were his reflections on the subject : 

"He thinks I believe his colored statement, but I can't do it. 
What he said about the headache, and the doctor's medicine, and all 
that, may be true ; but the fact is, what was he doing with his loud 
whisky breath last night ? I 'm sorry my nose detected him in a 
falsehood. Is it not probable though that the doctor gave him 
whisky to cure the headache ? No, that could hardly be, for stimu- 
lants would have made him worse. Well, it 's all in a muddle, and 
I am going to say nothing about it as I promised." 

That morning after breakfast William wrote an affectionate letter 
to his betrothed, announcing the party, and most urgently inviting 
her and her brother Walter to be present on the occasion. His con- 
cluding lines were as follows : 

" Now, my dear Lucy, you and Walter must come without fail. 
We will take no denial. My father and mother, and in fact all of us, 
unite heartily in tendering you this invitation. We are going to 
have a grand time, and all the grander because it will be associated 
with the consciousness that my years of probation will soon termi- 
nate. I am thankful, dear Lncy, that nothing has occurred in the 
past to shut me out from the magnificent inheritance which is to be 
yours as well as mine. My desire to possess it does not arise from 
selfishness, but from the absorbing desire of my heart to give you, 
as you have hitherto enjoyed them at home, the comforts and luxu- 
ries of life. By the way, my friend Mr. Clifford is still with us, up to 
his eyes in rural felicity. He is splendid company, and I know you 
will like him very much." ***'''* 

While William was engaged in the composition of this and other 
letters, Clifford was on his bed in a most dismal and disconsolate 
humor. His head was aching with a vengeance, and his stomach 
was burning like an inextinguishable volcano. Something very 
serious must have happened to him at the village. He was evidently 
very sick and feverish, tossing from one side of the bed to the other 
in the most grotesque manner. At last he took out a letter which he 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 169 

had received the day before, and began to digest its contents. This 
did not seem to agree with him any better than the doctor's medi- 
cine, for, after reading a few sentences, he hastily thrust the letter 
into his coat pocket, accompanying the act with a gesture of con- 
tempt and infinite disgust. Then to soothe his irritated mind by a 
change of position, he placed his slippered feet on the floor, and 
began to pace the apartment with hasty strides. 

" I would like to know," he said mentally, " what sort of a star 
was that under which I was born. It must have been a malignant 
one, for I have been a slave all my life ; and to-day I am more a 
slave than ever. I have journeyed round the world in quest of hap- 
piness, and I have found only increased misery ! That letter — 
yes, that dictatorial and relentless letter — I must go on and do its 
bidding, even if I bring mildew and death on the innocent, and a 
thousand blistering curses on myself. But still the letter is right, for 
have I not been wronged most foully ? Have I not been disinher- 
ited ? Have I not been kicked out to starve so that aliens may 
inherit my house, feast at my table, and laugh at my calamity ? But 
I can not bear this horrible fever in my system. Where, in the name 
of God, where will I find a stimulant which will bring me out of this 
wretchedness ?" 

Five minutes after this dramatic soliloquy took place, Charles was 
returning from the field with a vessel, in quest of a supply of water. 
Before filling it, he thought he would go into the house for a few 
moments. He noticed as he came along that Dinah was out in the 
garden, gathering vegetables for dinner. He was about to step on 
the little porch leading into the rear part of the house, when he was 
surprised to see through a window the figure of Clifford, cautiously, 
and even stealthily, moving through the kitchen. Without noise, 
Charles approached the window to take an observation, his curiosity 
very much excited. 

Clifford, not knowing he was observed, walked back and forward 
through the kitchen, plainly seeking for something which seemed to 
be lost. At length his eye rested eagerly on something in a corner ; 
and then stooping over with convulsive quickness, he fished up with 
a jerk the jug of whisky which William had brought from the vil- 
lage a few evenings before. It did not take him long to draw the 
rude cork, and place the vessel to his fiery lips. A series of gurg- 
ling sounds, well prolonged and well emphasized, showed that the 
draught was deep and potent. Replacing the cork and partially hid- 



170 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

ing the jug under his gown, the unfortunate young man left the room 
with his prize, and betook himself again to his own chamber. 

Charles went back to his work very little surprised at what he had 
seen, but more than ever astonished at the fact that he was the only 
one of the family to whom a knowledge of Clifford's real character 
was to be communicated. Another surprise, if surprise it was, 
awaited him on his return to dinner. William had all the morning 
been employed writing letters, and otherwise taking care of his cor- 
respondence. During the same time Mrs. Belgrave was in the room 
with her husband, whose convalescence was going on admirably. 
Little Bessie, the household pet, divided her valuable time between 
her parents' room and the kitchen, and then, by way of diversion or 
recreation, she would mount the stairs to the top, so as to slide back 
on the bannister, a feat which she knew her mother did not indorse. 

In one of her hasty journeys up stairs, she saw something which 
attracted her attention. She picked it up and recognized it as a 
letter. 

" Puss, what are you looking at so intently ? " inquired a voice sev- 
eral feet below her. 

" Dun no, brother Charlie," she replied, running down stairs to 
meet him with the letter in her hand. After giving it into his care, 
she ran back to her play, forgetting all about the circumstance. The 
envelope of the letter was gone, and Charles was obliged to unfold 
the document in order to discover to whom it belonged. Under the 
date he saw it was addressed to Ashton Clifford, Esq. Believing he 
was doing wrong in thus looking over another person's letter, 
Charles was about to refold it and then carry it to its owner, when his 
eye caught the sight of a name not unfamiliar to him at the foot of 
the page. It was that of General Leslie Norman, of Wheeling, 
Virginia. 

Charles was now determined to read the letter, whatever might be 
the consequences. He was well acquainted with the story of his 
father's connection with General Norman, and also with the story of 
his uncle's eccentric will, which was made contingently in favor of 
his elder brother ; but for the life of him he could not understand 
the relation which seemed to exist between General Norman and 
Ashton Clifford. It occurred to him that the letter, now fortunately 
in his possession, might throw light on this intricate subject. Dinner 
was not yet announced. Charles went to the barn, and. finding a 
place secure from observation, he spread out the letter before him 
and read as follows : 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 171 

"Wheeling, July i, 1834. 

"Ashton Clifford, Esq. — Dear Sir : By the time this letter 
reaches you I presume you will have all your plans matured for a 
glorious victory. I told you before you started on this enterprise 
that it required coolness, pluck, and invincible strategy. Without 
these you can do nothing ; but with them the winning cards are 
already in your hands. You must use men liberally, commanding 
their testimony at any expense. Either myself or my chosen agent, 

Samuel Murdock will be at M by the twenty-fifth instant, laden 

with cash for your purpose, But mark you, Ashton, if you yield to 
the old temptation, and lose your wits as you have a hundred times 
before, I will desert you and leave you to your fate. Even she whom 
you so ardently love, and whose union with you is contingent on 
your success, will turn against you. 

Yours as ever, 

Leslie Norman. 

Charles' brain spun like a top when he finished reading this sig- 
nificant epistle. He did not hear the bell which called the family to 
dinner, but sat with bowed head in unbroken meditation, gazing at 
the words and mysterious sentences with a rigid, stony stare. What 
could the letter mean ? Who was Ashton Clifford, and what could 
be the nature of an enterprise whose success demanded such a lav- 
ish expenditure of money ? General Norman was an old and bitter 
enemy of his father. Did this letter show that there was a stupen- 
dous conspiracy on foot, projected by Norman and to be executed by 
Clifford ? If so, against whom was this conspiracy leveled ? Was 
it against his father ? No. Was it against his elder brother, and was 
it designed to cheat him out of his expected fortune ? But even if 
William should lose the fortune, what possible benefit could redound 
to Clifford, or to Norman, or to any one else except to William's 
younger brothers ? 

If Charles had been an impulsive boy, he would have taken the 
letter at once to William ; but remembering his infatuation in regard 
to Clifford, he hesitated to do this, thinking that another time would 
do as well. He thought too of taking the letter directly to Clifford, 
and asking him what hidden meaning it contained. This thought 
was rejected, and at last, weary and heart-sick, he went back to the 
house to be scolded by Dinah for his absence from dinner. 

He placed the letter carefully away in his pocket, and determined 
to note in the future every suspicious circumstance, for he felt that 



172 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

on him, more than any, one else devolved the responsibility of pene- 
trating the mystery which seemed to surround Clifford. He learned 
from Dinah that his brother's interesting friend did not come down 
to dinner, excusing himself on the score of temporary sickness. 

The same afternoon Charles had occasion to visit the village on 
business, and while there, meeting an acquaintance who was well 
posted in village news, a little dialogue took place. 

" Did you," inquired Charles, "see any stranger in town yester- 
day ?" 

"Why, yes," replied the other, whose name was John Smith, 
" there was one I noticed particularly ; but he 's no stranger to you. 
I mean the young man that knocked down two of the constables the 
other day." 

" Well, what of him ? Where did you see him ? " asked Charles 
quickly. 

" I seed him fust at the post-office, where he went to get some let- 
ters. I thought it strange he should come back to town alone, for I 
jist expected that them officers who got so nation mad at him t' other 
day would nab him quicker than a flash ; but somehow or other they 
did n't do it. I saw the young fellow into Dick Martin's doggery, 
drinkin' whisky and carousin' with Snap, Morgan, and all the rest 
on 'em. Instead of hatin' him and wantin' to jug him, they acted 
as though he was the most popular man in the world." 

" How did it happen, Mr. Smith, that the young man you speak of 
remained so long in town ? He never came home last night until 
near midnight." 

" O, that question is very easy answered. As I was passin' Dick 
Martin's place about sundown, I looked into the back room through 
a window and there I see the young man on Martin's bed, and he 
was snorin' like all sixty. He 'd got a little too much steam ahead, 
and was obleeged to sleep it off." 

" That 's enough, Mr. Smith. That 's all I desire to know. I have 
always regarded you as a good friend. I trust you will say nothing 
to any one concerning this talk between us ; and if you should see 
this young man Clifford again, I wish you would take notice of what 
he does, and inform me as soon as you can." 

On his way home that afternoon, Charles's reflections were not by 
any means pleasant ; but before he laid down on his bed that night 
he resolved to act the part of a good sentinel, watching the move- 
ments of the enemy, and protecting the interest of the family 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 173 

against any treachery and conspiracy. Several days now passed 
away, during which, on the plea of indisposition, Clifford did not 
appear in the parlor nor at the table. His meals were taken up to 
him either by Dinah or one of the boys. It was evident that he was 
in no sociable mood. There was a sudden change from his pre-emi- 
nent sprightliness of conversation to a sullen silence which no one 
about the house except Charles could explain. William did not sus- 
pect anything. 

" This can 't last long," thought Charles one day as he was retir- 
ing from the young invalid's room. " He is drinking very deeply, 
and at this rate the liquor will soon be exhausted. That old jug 
which he has hidden away in some convenient place, must be very 
nearly dry. Strange, very strange is it that neither William nor any 
one else who comes into this room shares with me a knowledge of 
the truth." 

The morning which succeeded this soliloquy, Clifford surprised 
the family by coming down to breakfast. He was pale and nervous, 
but he was thoroughly at himself, evincing none of the symptoms of 
intoxication. It now lacked but a few days of the time when the 
party was to come off, and all hands competent to do anything were 
busily engaged in preparing for the great entertainment. Breakfast 
was about over when Mrs. Belgrave remarked : 

" I must send some one tp town this morning to purchase some 
articles for me which are greatly needed. Charles and the two boys 
can not be spared from the field to-day, for the harvest is not yet 
completed. William, I guess it will devolve on you to go to the 
village." 

William was about to indicate his willingness to do what was 
required, when Clifford interposed thus : 

" I will go, Mrs. Belgrave. A little excursion horseback will do me 
good. I never needed exercise and ventilation more in my life. 
So, Mrs. Belgrave, make out a memorandum of the articles you 
need, and I will be glad to bring them to you." 

" Well, Ashton," remarked William, "if you really intended to 
ride out this morning, I shall be glad to have you go in my place, as 
I wish to help my brothers in their work." 

If any one had been looking at Charles during this conversation, 
he would have noticed an expression of disapprobation on his face. 
Charles was impressed with a conviction that the errand on which 
Clifford was going was not to benefit his health, nor to do the bid- 



174 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

ding of Mrs. Belgrave, but to hunt up reckless associates, and pro- 
long the debauch on which he was now fairly started. He resolved, 
therefore, that if their guest should remain in the village until the 
afternoon, to follow him, making excuses to his brothers for his tem- 
porary absence. 

Noon came and went, but the absentee came not. It was late in 
the afternoon when Charles mounted a horse, and turned his head 
toward the village. It was twilight as he entered the town. Passing 
the antiquated tavern, he saw the landlord, apparently freighted with 
liquor, standing alone on the porch. The young man rode up to 
him, and inquired in a low voice if he knew a person by the name ot 
Clifford. 

" What : that ar feller what knocked the constables down ? " 
questioned the landlord. " Well, I guess I does know him like a 
book. He 's in this 'ere house jess now, up stairs in number eight 
— best room, in confab with an old crony of his'n, I guess a Gineral 
somebody from the South." 

" Take my horse, landlord, and put him away," said Charles, 
dismounting. He waited a moment to see the landlord, who was 
his own hostler, stagger away with the horse ; and then on reflection, 
followed him to the stable. " Here, landlord," said he, " is a little 
specie which I want to give you for your trouble. Is any one occu- 
pying room number seven in your house ? " 

" No," answered the landlord, somewhat mystified at the manners 
and speech of the other, but still too besotted to undertake an 
investigation. 

" Well, I want that room for the night ; and be sure, Mr. Boggles, 
that you tell no one, especially the men in number eight, that I am 
in the house or in the village. I will make it to your interest to do 
as I wish. Is it a bargain ? " 

" Yes, of course it is. I knows you, Charley, and your father 
before you. You 're the right stripe, sure ; you kin do as you like in 
my house." 

Charles was satisfied that he was not to be betrayed by the host, 
and so, alter making a few common place remarks, he went back to 
the tavern. There was no one visible in the front part of the house 
below. He was well acquainted with the location and number of 
the sleeping apartments. He mounted the stairs softly, reached the 
designated room, and was glad to find the door unlocked, as he had 
forgotten, in his conversation with Boggles, to inquire about the key. 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 175 

Turning the catch on the inside to keep out intruders, he retreated to 
the bed, sat down, and awaited disclosures. 

Listening attentively, he heard two voices in number eight, engaged 
in an important conference, but speaking in a muffled and sup- 
pressed way rather difficult to over-hear. One of these voices was 
indisputably that of Clifford, but the other was strange to Charles, 
proceeding however, from a much older man than his companion. 

"I say, General," said Clifford, in a state of excitement, "this 
enterprise of ours involves a blunder for which there is no remedy. 
Strange that you should so mistake the character of the will." 

" I am not mistaken. Please explain yourself, my dear sir." 

" I heard but to-day, from a gentleman m this village, who is well 
posted in these matters, that if William Belgrave shall fail from any 
cause to obtain this fortune, there are three other members of the 
same family to whom the estate must conditionally go, before any 
other party can hope to reap advantage from it. It's a wild-goose 
chase, and that's all there is of it." 

" I tell you, Leroy — Ashton I mean — you do not understand the 
means which have been employed to put you in possession of this 
estate, and give you the hand of my daughter Julia. The will does 
not now read as you suppose. Let the trustees understand, from 
good, conclusive evidence, that the eldest son has forfeited his right 
to the estate, then, sir, I will make it extremely plain to you that the 
fortune, which in seven years has increased in value to more than 
one hundred thousand dollars, will be yours without question." 

"What, sir, has the will been tampered with ? And if so, will not 
the other trustees know, from inspection and memory that such is 
the case?" 

" I did not say the will was tampered with, boy. You need not 
alarm yourself about trifles. The will by agreement was placed in 
the hands of an attorney, a third party ; and at the end of seven 
years from its date, it will show for itself that I do not misrepresent 
its conditions. Meantime I am afraid you are doing but little to 
secure the prize. When I first saw you to-day, 1 knew from your 
appearance, especially from your extreme nervousness, that your old 
habit of drinking is getting you down again. If you do not stop 
this, your cause is lost irretrievably." 

" Well, let it be lost then," responded Clifford in a hoarse, unnat- 
ural tone — " If it were a million, instead of what it is, I deserve to 
lose it all — yes, every dollar of it, and go to my grave as poor as 



176 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

Lazarus. Was I not a disobedient and ungrateful son ? Did I not 
run away from my father, and was I not absent from home year after 
year, journeying through the world in a state of drunkenness, until 
my father's heart was turned against me, and the property which 
would have been mine if I had been a dutiful son, was left to others 
who deserve it infinitely more than myself? And now you come as 
the tempter comes, telling me that forgery is not wickedness, and 
bidding me do all in my power to break down the morals, and ruin 
the reputation, of the best young man I ever knew. O my God, this 
is too much." 

"You are very foolish Leroy, to permit these sentimentalisms to 
get the better of you. You forget that you are your father's only 
son, and as such you are entitled to every dollar of this property. 
You are going to permit yourself to be swindled out of this inheri- 
tance, are you ? And you are going to remain for all time to come, 
what you are now, an outcast disinherited by your father, and a 
beggar hopeless of rising to a better condition, . Now sir, decide at 
once either to go on with this enterprise in good faith, or I leave you 
to take the intelligence to Julia, that you are too much of a coward 
ever to strike a blow for her interests." 

" O spare me ! spare me ! " groaned the young man in an abandon- 
ment of despair — " I cannot bear this much longer ! If she loved me 
as I do her, she would not demand of me this sacrifice of honor, this 
sordid meanness toward an innocent family through whose veins my 
own blood is coursing : But I have agreed to do this thing, devilish 
as it is, and I will do it for her sake." 

';■' Spoken like a man as you are," said the deep disciplined voice 
of the other — " It is understood, for the contract is in black and 
white, that the day in which you become master of this property, 
you become the master, as far as marriage can make you, of Julia's 
destiny; and as a compensation for money expended, and risk incur- 
red, I am to receive on the same day a certain percentage of the 
appraised value of the estate. Is this the contract ?" 

" Yes, it is," briefly replied the other ; " and I now wish to tell you 
what I have done since I came to this vicinity. My letters have 
advised you in regard to many things which have taken place ; and 
it is hardly necessary to revert to these again. I have carefully, 
according to your direction, drawn up a document, certifiying that 
William Belgrave is a young man of intemperate habits ; and more 
than this, there are more than half-a-dozen men living in this vil- 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 177 

lage — some of them officers of justice — who have pledged themselves 
to subscribe their names under oath to this document on the 26th 
day of this month." 

"Why on that day more than any other?" inquired General 
Norman. 

" This is easily explained. On the twenty-fifth instant, there is to 
be a grand party at the residence of Mr. Belgrave, given in honor of 
the eldest son now at home, and of myself who have been an hon- 
ored guest of the family. The plan is that some time during that 
evening or night, either force or strategy, will introduce William to 
his first glass of stimulating beverage. If he feels its effects strongly, 
the victory over him will be easy, for no male Belgrave was ever 
known to take one glass of intoxicating liquor, without following it 
up with the most terrible excesses ! It is the taint in our blood, you 
know, which has been poisoning us for generations." 

"You have planned this thing very sagaciously, my boy, and 
success seems to be certain. But the very rock on which you are 
contriving to wreck this man may be your own ruin. It will do for 
others to drink, but you cannot afford this luxury until the estate for 
which you are striving, is yours in fee simple without question. 
Promise me on your word of honor, Leroy, that you will not taste 
another drop of alcoholic liquid until after you return to Virginia!" 

" My word of honor General! That is a good joke. It is indeed 
honorable for me to accept, in seeming good faith, the hospitality of 
an unsuspecting family, while at the same time I am plotting foully, 
and damnably, to cheat the eldest-born out of his fortune, and out 
of his very soul, turning him over to the tender mercies of a habit 
which has scourged our house for centuries ! O my God ! what infi- 
nite crime is this which I am committing against humanity, against 
the laws of hospitality, against the ties of kindred and blood, and 
against Thee, O my Creator ? My honor, General, ha ! ha ! ha ! I 
pledge you my honor, such as it is, that I will abstain as far as 
possible." 

" Don't be quite so loud in your speech. It is said that walls have 
ears. We must be very secret, and keep our own counsel. I have 
registered my name here as General Walker. Do not forget this. 
Early to-morrow, I design to go to the county-seat, to remain there 
until the day of this party to which you refer. Then disguised so as 
to escape all recognition from the elder Belgrave and his wife, I will 
join you in the crowd. If our plans prosper, as they must and shall, 
12 



178 THE TRANSMITTED CtrRSE. 

you and I, armed with the proper documentary testimony, will start 
the next day for Leesburg, where loved ones, my boy, await our 
return. You had better now return to the country before your 
absence will be greatly noticed. You obtained those articles for Mrs. 
Belgrave, to which you referred sometime ago, did you ?" 

"Yes, I could not have forgotten them. I obtained the mail mat- 
ter also. I regret very much that I couldn't return sooner, for 
there is one person about the house, a lad of only eighteen, who 
already suspects me. Not that he knows anything definitely about 
me, but he is suspicious on general principles. I will go at once, 
and call for my horse, if I can find my way down in the darkness. 
Singular that the landlord doesn't furnish lights for his guests." 

"I don't need lights," responded the General with a yawn, as he 
undressed himself in the darkness — "All I want is sleep ; so good 
night, my son, and we'll meet at PhillippL" 



The Transmitted curse. 179 



CHAPTER VII. 

It had been Charles's intention, after hearing the weightiest part 
of the detailed conversation between General Norman and his young 
victim, to steal away unpercieved, and reach home in advance of 
Clifford. But as word after word was uttered, revealing an awful 
and stupendous conspiracy against his brother, he sat like a statue, 
fascinated by the morbid spell with which he was invested. At last 
he heard Clifford's steps passing his room. He heard him descend 
the stairs, and call for the landlord. Walking softly out of the 
chamber to a window over-looking the street, he saw by the moon- 
light Clifford's horse brought around, and a moment afterward the 
young man mounted to depart. Charles was not at all amazed to see 
Clifford take a course from the tavern opposite to that which he must 
take in order to reach his home in the country. A temptation had 
seized him to go to the saloon before leaving the village, in spite of 
the pledge of honor which he gave to General Norman. 

"I'll wait awhile longer," thought Charles, trying to command his 
emotion — "I know where he has gone to; and in all probability, 
when he gets with those drinking chaps again, he will make part of a 
night of it as he did before. I need be in no hurry. If I wait till he 
passes, I can still get ahead of him by taking the path through the 
forest." 

So saying, he silently went down stairs, and joined the landlord 
who stood out on the porch. 

"Be sure, landlord," said he, "that you say nothing to the gentle- 
man above stairs, nor to the young man who has just gone away, 
about my being here to-night. Here, take this money, and may it 
do you good. I can afford to be generous with you on this occasion, 
more so than they can, I am sure. Speak very low, if you please, 
for I would not have that man hear us. There is a mystery here 



180 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

which I will explain to you in a few days. You may get my horse 
out now, and fasten him in the alley between the house and the 
stable." 

The landlord had known Charles for years, and respected him, as 
far as a poor drunkard could respect anybody, for his manly and 
honorable disposition. He was convinced that whatever was the 
mystery with which his guests were connected, it did not, and could 
not under any circumstances, reflect dishonor on his young friend 
Charles. Therefore, with the most implicit confidence he hastened 
to get the horse. 

During his absence, the eyes of Charles rested on a familiar object 
lying on the porch. It was his father's old portmanteau or saddle- 
bags, which Clifford had brought to town to serve his purpose in 
transporting the various articles ordered by Mrs. Belgrave. Charles 
took them up in his hands and found them quite heavy, proving that 
Clifford had not forgotten his mission to the store. 

" Mother needs these articles very much," he thought — " She must 
have them to-morrow. I fear that Clifford will forget them entirely. 
I will take them around now, and put them on my horse, saying 
nothing to the landlord about them, for he wont know the differ- 
ence." 

Charles did as he indicated, and reached the alley just as Mr. 
Boggles was coming with the horse." 

"Thank you," said the young man, throwing the portmanteau 
over the saddle — "You may hitch my horse here where the moon- 
light will not fall on him. 1 will saunter up street a few minutes 
before starting." 

He was anxious that no one should recognize him, and for this 
reason he moved on the dark side of the street. Walking eastward 
about a square, he came to the saloon corner. Stopping a moment 
near the outside wall of the brick doggery, he heard many obstrep- 
erous voices, among which, in a vein of maudlin ecstacy, he clearly 
recognized the tones of Clifford. Turning away with a sigh, he went 
back to his horse, mounted him and galloped off in haste. As he 
moved away the great burden of his soul found expression in these 
words : 

"And that man who is plotting to ruin my brother, body and soul, 
and break the hearts of our parents, is my cousion, Leroy Belgrave, 
bound to me by the ties of blood ! And that other man, taking his 
rest at the hotel, and feeling that my cousin is a pliant dupe in his 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 181 

hands, is General Leslie Norman, the ancient enemy of my father, 
and the present leader of this remorseless conspiracy against my 
brother. Difficult as the task is, William must be informed to-mor- 
row, lor to hesitate to do this now would be criminal." 

Just before his arrival at home, while passing through a lane, his 
horse was frightened at some object in the fence corner, and made a 
sudden spring toward the other side of the road. Charles was a 
practiced horsemen, but in this instance was out-generaled, being 
hurled to the ground with considerable violence. His head and 
right shoulder were the principal sufferers, but despite the stunning 
effects of the fall, he quickly sprang to his feet, remounted, and hur- 
ried on his way, sadly mortified at the inglorious defeat which had 
befallen him. The blow on his head was altogether more serious 
than he imagined. 

Reaching the house, he took care of the horse, and then, as it was 
not very late, he hastened with the portmanteau to his parents' 
room. He was glad to find his mother still up. 

" I suspected," said she, "that you went away to hunt up your 
truant friend, fearing that something had happened to him. Where 
did you find him ? " 

"At the village, mother, of course. He chanced to meet an old 
friend from the South, and his return, if to-night at all, will be very 
late. I knew you needed the articles, and so I brought them, as you 
see. I will take them out for you, if you please." 

" Well, do so, my son, while I go to the kitchen after some water." 

Charles knelt down to his task, and the first object which emerged 
from the portmanteau was a quart bottle, evidently full of whisky. 
Glad of his mother's absence, he took the bottle outside the room, 
and concealed it. His father, too, was fortunately asleep. When 
his mother came back, she was greeted with the sight of all the goods 
she had ordered, and in addition a package of letters for different 
members of the household came into view. 

As Charles was rising to his feet at the completion of his little 
task, a sudden vertigo, caused by his recent fall, seized him, and he 
would have fallen to the floor, if a chair near by had not given him 
a partial support. In an instant, however, his faintness passed away, 
and he was himself again. Mrs. Belgrave was alarmed, and it 
became necessary for him to explain. 

" I did not intend, mother, to tell you anything about it, for it 's a 
mere trifle at the most, and the telling would afflict you and mortify 



182 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

me. The fact is, the horse got scared, and tumbled me off on my 
head and shoulder." 

" I 'm afraid you 're hurt seriously, my child. Go to your room, 
and I will take up some wet cloths to apply to the injured parts. 
Do n't say no to me, for these wounds in the head are not to be trifled 
with." 

Charles obeyed orders, but he thought all the time it was much ado 
about nothing ; and before his parent finally left him for the night, 
he assured her in his gayest and most festive manner, that he would 
be all right in the morning. 

But this joyous prediction was not verified, for the morning found 
Charles suffering from concussion of the brain. He but vaguely 
recognized his friends, and kept placing his hand to his head, and 
muttering in a kind of low delirium. When William, who was sum- 
moned, came to see him, he tried by a mighty effort to rouse himself, 
feeling that there was something heavy on his mind which must be 
communicated. 

" Take care, dear brother," said he, trying hard to find expression 
for his disturbed thoughts, " for they mean to kill you ! I 'm your 
friend, you know, and mean to stick to you to the last. But then, 
there 's Leroy, our cousin, and the Transmitted Curse, have sworn 
that they will poison you with whiskey, and General Norman, and 
Lerov and Ashton Clifford are going to bury you at Painter's Hill, and 
then run away with your fortune ! Did n't I hear the whole plan 
last night ? But we '11 beat them, brother — yes, beat them to death ! 
Ha, ha, ha ! " 

What could William, or any other listener, make out of this inco- 
herent raving, except the fact that his headlong tumble from the horse 
the night before had driven poor Charles into temporary insanity. 
It was obvious that a physician was needed, and John, mounted on 
the fleetest horse belonging to the plantation, hurried away for 
assistance. 

In the shortest time possible my father entered the patient's room, 
armed with a lancet and other delightful instruments of a surgical 
character, which were much 'used forty years ago. He went into a 
brief examination, after which Charles was bled to exhaustion, 
according to the manner of the times ; and in this instance I am 
proud to say the treatment was successful. The delirium and other 
unpleasant symptoms did not return; but sheer debility, caused 
by copious bleeding, kept him from making any revelation to his 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 183 

brother for the next day or two. His mind was utterly relaxed, 
throwing him into a state of imbecility for the time being, which 
made him a poor protector of his brother's interests. He was soon 
known to be out of all real danger, and when this gratifying fact 
was realized, William retired for a little while to his own apartment 
to read the letters which Charles had brought from town. One of 
these was from his affianced, Lucy Carrington, the contents of 
which were so remarkable, we are tempted to transcribe them for the 
benefit of the reader : 

Circleville, July 15, 1834. 

Dear William : Your letter containing an invitation for brother 
Walter and myself, to attend an entertainment at your father's resi- 
dence on the twenty-fifth instant, was gladly received. Brother Wal- 
ter was much elated over the prospect of this excursion, and to con- 
fess the truth, so was I. It seemed like a long, long time since you 
and I had met, and I was silly enough even to count the days which 
would intervene between that time and the day of the party. We 
both went to work with a right good will to make the necessary 
arrangements for our departure ; and we were just in the act of 
completing them to our fullest satisfaction, when Walter was taken 
down with the fever, and the doctor tells us he will not be able to 
be out for a month to come. 

' Father's health is so feeble this summer that he will not be able 
to go with me, and so, dear William, I am forced to give up this 
visit on which I had set my heart so strongly. 

By the way, do you believe in dreams ? I believe that they are 
sometimes providential, and are intended to guard us against threat- 
ened danger. It was last night I dreamed I saw you lying on an 
uncarpeted floor in a large room, which I had never seen before. A 
feeble light was burning, which threw a sort of dismal twilight on 
all objects. You looked pale and dejected, and when I asked you 
to rise and come to me, you said you could not, for your hands and 
feet were bound with cords. I was about to shriek for assistance, 
when a side door, which I had not hitherto noticed, seemed to open 
of itself, and a large, white haired man, at least sixty years of age, 
wearing a mask which was transparent to my sight, entered, bearing 
in his hand a vessel which contained some kind of liquor. For a 
moment only, a name seemed to be traced in fiery letters near the 
top of his mask, three letters of which, ff Nor," were made out, 
when all the rest were obliterated. 



184 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

While standing in dumb amazement at what I saw, another door 
opened, and a young man, handsome of feature, but repulsive to 
me, came in and took his place by the side of the elder person. I 
thought I knew him, for he greatly resembled your friend Clifford, 
and I was about to speak to him, imploring assistance, when he and 
his companion hurried to your side and were attempting to force 
down your throat the contents of that vessel, when I awoke from 
the intensity of my feelings. 

It was but a dream, dear William ; but what a dream ! It may 
mean, and I am afraid it does, that some friend prized by you, is 
about to betray you. I have every confidence in your integrity, but 
there may be those about you who are conspiring at the eleventh 
hour to cheat you out of your fortune, and defraud you out of your 
soul. Try to interpret my dream for me ; and above all things, as 
my heart tells me, be on your guard every moment on the day and 
night of the party. Pardon me if I ask you : are you sure, are you 
very sure, that you can trust that friend with you ? 1 shall pray 
for you without ceasing. Remember me to the other members 
of the family, and believe me, 

Yours affectionately, 

Lucy Carrington. 

William was not at all inclined to be superstitious. His mind was 
too well poised on its balance for that ; but there was something in 
this letter which moved him strangely. The perspiration stood in 
clammy drops on his brow, and a cold, shuddering sensation passed 
through his frame. He remembered that once only, in an inter- 
change of mutual confidences, he had related to Lucy all the events 
proper to be communicated of his father's history, as well as his 
own ; but now by a strange coincidence, either fortuitous or Provi- 
dential, a dream with which she is favored, reveals to her two figures 
resembling those of General Norman and Ashton Clifford, and dis- 
plays to her on the masked face of the former the first three letters 
of his own name. And more than this, the dream represents these 
two men who are supposed to be strangers to each other, as acting in 
collusion, and acting basely and treacherously against the interests 
of her betrothed husband. What could all this mean ? General 
Norman was known to be a lifelong enemy of the Belgrave family, 
who would stop at nothing to gratify his hate, or his thirst for ven- 
geance ; but what probable reason could there be for supposing that 
Clifford — the genial and gentlemanly Clifford who had shown his 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 185 

friendship in many instances — could be connected in any way with 
General Norman's villainies, or be instigated by a feeling of personal 
hostility toward William, or any other member of the household ? 

The young man, as he held the letter, pondering its grave contents, 
could not find it in his heart to harbor a suspicion of his friend's 
integrity ; and while in this mood, he wrote a response to the letter, 
deploring Walter's sickness, and the consequent inability of the 
brother and sister to attend the party. He concluded as follows : 

" I confess, dear Lucy, that your dream has given me some pain- 
ful thoughts. It must be admitted that visions like yours are some- 
times designed to warn us of impending danger. I believe this 
because I am a believer also in a special Providence, and because 
the Bible is full of proofs to this effect. But still I can not see how 
your dream could in any way be intended as a warning. I have 
every confidence in the perfect purity of Clifford's friendship for me, 
for he has exhibited it on many occasions since he came to this 
house. And as to General Norman, unprincipled and malignant as 
he is, I do not fear him. He can not harm me." 

Such was the tenor of William's answer. It had the effect of con- 
vincing him most thoroughly that the sentiments it contained were 
true ; and he was about to return to his brother, from whom he had 
been absent longer than he designed, when Bessie, ever on the alert, 
ran into the room, exclaiming : 

"O, brother Willie, Mr. Clifford's horse, with saddle and bridle on, 
just now run up to the gate, all sweating and panting. I am afraid 
that Mr. Clifford has been thrown off, and may be hurt bad." 

Having thus disburdened her mind, the little girl scampered away 
like a streak, followed up closely by her brother. On reaching the 
gate, it was discovered that Bessie's report was true. Clifford's rider- 
less horse was there, waiting impatiently to be taken into custody. 
He was usually a fine looking animal, but on this occasion he 
appeared gaunt and demoralized, as though neither water nor oats 
had refreshed him for many hours. It was still quite early in the 
day, although from the many circumstances which had taken place 
in the house, it would naturally be inferred that the morning was well 
spent. Turning to John who was standing near by, William said : 

" Brother, please take this horse to the barn, and have him well 
cared for. Meanwhile I will take my horse, and another with him, 
and hunt up our friend. I am fearful that some serious accident has 
befallen him. There will be enough of you left at home to attend 
to Charles. I will not be gone long." 



186 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

While William is maturing his arrangements, and starting on his 
Good Samaritan journey, let us return to Clifford. The pledge of 
total abstinence which this unfortunate young man had given to 
General Norman, was made in good faith at the time, but on leaving 
the hotel, his thirst became so imperious that he determined to 
quench it at the saloon before departing from the town. Once again 
with his new associates in drinking, Snap, Morgan, Martin and oth- 
ers, he lost all accurate reckoning in regard to time, forgetting even 
that he had a fine gold watch with which to post his blurred vision. 
He and his companions — jolly fellows all — made a night of it in 
the old back room. Cards were called for, and the games of " Old 
Sledge," "Whiskey Poker," and the inevitable "Euchre," alternated 
with the drinks, which were always paid for by the loser, until the 
" wee sma' hours " of the morning. 

At length want of sleep and excessive bumpers, brought to Clifford 
feelings of irresistible drowsiness. Seeing this, Martin, who admired 
him for his money and his respectable appearance, offered him a 
part of his virtuous couch, which he thankfully accepted. In a 
state of happy delirium, the revelers sneaked away to their dishon- 
ored homes, leaving their victim to his repose. 

The beams of a July sun, flashing hotly over his feverish face 
through an eastern window, awoke Clifford from his unnatural slum- 
ber. He was alone, for Martin, impelled by some reason best known 
to himself, found it convenient just then to be invisible. The young 
man started from the bed, uttering an exclamation of surprise. He 
did not use the historic question of maidens just emerging from a 
faint : " Where am I ? " But for a whole minute while standing by 
the bed he certainly did not know where he was, or who he was, 
believing that he was either a myth or a case of mistaken identity. 
Then the events of the previous night, like ghosts trooping home 
from church -yards, filed hauntingly through his memory; and these 
were followed by the consciousness that his whole system was flam- 
ing with fever, and calling out for some strong stimulant to relieve 
his agony. 

He was already dressed, for he had lain down in his clothes, not 
even taking off his boots. Snatching up his hat, and placing it on 
his head, he mechanically passed into the other room, where, to his 
infinite joy, he discovered a bottle of brandy on a shelf behind the 
counter. Darting forward he seized it, and the next moment a large 
portion of its contents was hissing down his burning throat. The 






THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 187 

brandy soon took decided effect. His nerves began to assume a 
splendid composure, and a thrill of returning energy animated his 
being. 

He could now think collectedly, and he remembered that his horse 
had been standing out at the rack all night. He was ashamed of 
his brutality toward the gallant animal. He thought, too, of General 
Norman, and being fearful of meeting that iron -willed man, he 
resolved to leave the town alone, as secretly as practicable. 

Moving out into the street, and proceeding to the hitching-rack, his 
dismay may be imagined when he discovered that the horse was 
gone, no trace of him being left except a fragment of the halter 
with which he had been fastened. Convinced that the animal had 
gone straight to his recent home in the country, Clifford decided to 
follow on foot. Passing through an alley to avoid observation, he did 
not turn into the high road until he reached the eastern extremity of 
the village. 

His feelings, as he walked on at a rapid pace, were of the most 
remorseful character. There is certainly no regret like that which 
is felt by the sensitive drunkard in his more rational moments. 
There is no self-loathing nor self-condemnation, like his in all this 
wide world. No wonder that Satan laughed in horrible glee when 
the intoxicating principle was first discovered or invented, and 
when altars to Bacchus, and temples dedicated to the festive god 
crowded the kingdoms and empires of this world ; for this discovery 
would, he knew, do more than all other dark agencies, to subjugate 
the moral world to the control of fallen angels and their apostate 
leader, the Prince of the Power of the Air, and the King of the 
Bottomless Pit. 

All of a sudden, Clifford paused in his course, and struck a sort of 
melodramatic attitude in the middle of the road. He had just then 
recalled the fact with shame that the portmanteau, containing the 
various articles ordered by Mrs. Belgrave, had been left by him at 
the hotel. At first he thought of going back for it ; but this idea 
was promptly rejected when he considered the possibility of meet- 
ing General Norman at the tavern. He decided, therefore, to go on. 
While he was attempting to ascend Painter's Hill, a great weakness 
assailed him. He had taken but a light supper the evening before 
in company with the General, and this was followed by a night of 
debauchery. He had eaten no breakfast, and the stimulant with 
which he had braced up his nerves, was now dying out, leaving him 
terribly demoralized. 



188 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

In fact he was unable to keep on his feet much longer. Before he 
was half way up the hill, he left the road a few yards, and sank 
hopelessly to the ground under the spreading branches of a great 
oak. He had just thought enough to wish to know what time it 
was ; and feeling for his watch, he started as though a serpent had 
bitten him ! That splendid watch, the gift of his mother long since 
dead, and the only precious memorial of her which he had preserved, 
was gone, doubtless stolen by the "dead-beats" with whom he had been 
carousing during the night. He now felt for his pocket-book, and a 
groan came from his burdened heart, when on inspecting it, he found 
that its contents were gone also, including a fifty-dollar bill recieved 
the day before from General Norman. As a result of this discovery he 
was perhaps the most disconsolate and spirit-broken young man on 
the continent. The loss of the money he could bear, for Norman, if 
nothing were said to him about the circumstances of the theft, would 
supply him again ; but the watch which he had carried on land and 
sea through many weary years — the loss of this was irreparable. 
He was tempted, weak as he was, to hurry back to the town to insti- 
tute a search for the lost property ; but on rising to go, his limbs 
refused to support him, and he sank back to the earth with a groan 
of despair ! 

When William was descending the hill with the two horses which 
he brought with him, he saw a prostrate form lying by the side of 
the road under a tree. By the dress, he instantly recognized Clifford. 
Alighting from his horse, and securing the two animals, he hastened 
to the side of his friend, fearing that some fatal accident had occur- 
red. Clifford was either asleep, or in a dead faint, for he was at the 
time, from some cause, oblivious of every care. A rivulet ran 
along the base of the hill, and to this William repaired. Forming a 
little cup with the leaves of a pawpaw bush, he filled it with water, 
and hurried back, throwing its contents in the face of his companion. 
Clifford started, opened his eyes, and looked around. 

" O, William," said he with a shudder, " I am glad you have come. 
Without help, I should have died in this dismal forest! " 

"My dear Ashton," inquired the other anxiously, "where are you 
hurt? How did it come that your horse threw you ? " 

"My horse did not throw me," said Clifford, assuming a sitting 
posture, with his back supported by the tree — "but I have something 
to explain to you, which I fear will trouble you as it has troubled 
me. Has it never occurred to you, my dear friend, that there are other 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 189 

families besides yours which are pursued by the curse of transmitted 
appetite?" 

Before this question was finished, William had caught the 
suspicious perfume which exhaled from Clifford's breath ; and this, 
together with the blood-shotten eyes, and other unmistakable indica- 
tions, was proof enough even to William, that Clifford had been in 
very bad company. 

"I belong to a race," continued the young inebriate, resolving as 
his best course to tell the truth partially, "from which, like your own, 
the habit of periodical intemperance has not been absent for centu- 
ries. This is the only bad habit of which I am guilty ; and God 
knows how earnestly I have struggled to master it. I have traveled 
through strange countries beyond the sea, to escape it. For the last 
few months until yesterday, I had not submitted to the pitiless tyr- 
ant ; and I was beginning to think that the day of redemption had 
come. But when we are most secure in our own opinion, we 
are always most in danger. Yesterday by chance I met an old 
acquaintance from the South, General Walker, and in an evil 
moment I yielded again to the temptation. I regret this more than 
language can describe; and God being my helper, it shall never 
occur again." 

The reader will percieve that this confession was a curious and 
artful blending of truth with fiction. It was true that Clifford felt all 
the pangs of an awful remorse, but this did not restrain him from 
measuring his phrases so as to produce the designed effect on his 
listener. He said nothing about his drunken associations, nor even 
about the theft of his property, contenting himself to lose it rather 
than to prejudice his cause by confessing too much. Never was 
there a more tolerant and forgiving person than William Belgrave. 
His standard of morals was the New Testament. He remembered 
that our Lord once said — "Let him that is without sin cast the first 
stone;" and remembering this, as well as the frailties of his own 
father, and the imperfections of himself, his profoundest compassion 
was excited in behalf of the sick, conscience-stricken youth before 
him, and the tears started to his eyes. 

"Dear Ashton," said he, "surprised as I am at what has taken 
place, you may be sure of my deepest sympathy. Knowing what I 
do of my own relatives, it would be simply disgraceful for me to turn 
away coldly, and repudiate your friendship. Whatever I can do for 
you, command me, and it shall be done, all the more quickly because 



190 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

you deserve sympathy and assistance. Come now, cheer tip. Do 
you think you are able to mount one of these horses ? " 

"Yes, I think I can. Your kindness has given me renewed 
strength. With your help now, I shall manage to get along very 
well. So lead on." 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 191 



CHAPTER VIII. 

As some of the scenes of this history belong to Virginia, I propose 
to take the reader for a while to that State. It was there that the 
early lives of Mr. and Mrs. Belgrave were passed. It was there that 
William Belgrave, Sen., the author of the eccentric will, lived and 
died ; and it was there also that General Leslie Norman plotted to 
supplant the real heir, and wreck the hopes of innocent parties. 

He was a thoroughly bold and bad man, a cold, selfish, and heart- 
less schemer. After his marriage to a woman whom he did not 
love, he attempted to break down her spirit by systematic unkind- 
ness, but here he met with a defeat. The lady, a woman of great 
sensibility and refinement, had a will of her own ; and instead of 
being driven into the grave by his brutality, she met him on his 
own ground, and made him glad to discontinue hostilities. 

His fondness for his daughter Julia resulted less from real affection 
than from admiration for her radiant beauty. At the time of which 
we write, she was about nineteen years of age. The reader may 
have inferred from occasional allusions to her in a conversation 
between her father and Clifford at the hotel, that she, also, was cold 
and selfish, willing that her lover should dishonor himself for the 
sake of wealth, and endanger his liberty, and even peril his life. 
But this was not true. She was frank, truthful, and demonstrative. 
One morning in May, 1834, her father sent for her to meet him in the 
library, to which she instantly repaired. He looked more than usu- 
ally pale and distressed. 

"I have sent for you, daughter," said he with a mournful expres- 
sion, " to tell you some bad news which, for the present at least, 
you will keep from your mother. You know that I have lately been 
speculating rather largely, but you do not know that I have lost 



192 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

heavily. Three months from this time, unless help comes from some 
source, we shall be advertised as beggars through the State." 

"You surprise me, father. It certainly cannot be so bad as this. 
Even if you should lose all your property, how could that reduce us 
to beggary when mother and myself have an independence in our 
own right?" 

"You don't understand me Julia. In your simplicity, it has not 
occurred to you that, without your knowledge or that of your mother, 
I could use your property in speculation, and lose it." 

" No, father, I did not think of this. At any rate, I thought 
mother's property was so well guarded, that no one could touch it 
without her written consent. But if it is gone, and we are reduced 
to poverty, it is bad enough indeed." 

"Now, my child, let me come to the point. You remember that 
William Belgrave, Sen., who died several years since, left a very 
large estate, now amounting in value to more than one hundred 
thousand dollars, not to Leroy whom he disinherited, but to a 
nephew in Ohio. You love Leroy Belgrave, and I have hitherto 
opposed your union with him. I will give my consent on one con- 
dition, that is that you incite Leroy, who is now at Circleville, where, 
as you know, you may address him, to use every possible exertion to 
break down the provisions of this iniquitous will, and thereby secure 
the estate to himself. You must make him understand that it is 
morally unjust to himself to submit passively to the great wickedness 
done to him by his own father. Write to him, and direct him to 
leave no stone unturned by which this monstrous wrong may be 
righted ; and tell him that if he is successful, there will then be no 
obstacle to your union." 

" I have always thought, father, that Leroy was treated wrongfully, 
but I shall not, under any circumstances, urge him to do an improper 
or unlawful act, even if he and I were to gain millions by this course." 

"Mark you, child, I have not asked you to urge him to the com- 
mission of any wrong act, but merely to assert his own rights, and 
then obtain his reward. Here is the form of a letter to him which I 
have indited for you, and which you will not find objectionable. 
Read it for yourself, then copy it, and send it." 

Julia took the letter, and read as follows — 

" Dear Leroy : You and I have often conversed in regard to the 
estate of which you have been deprived, and we are both agreed 
that you were treated unjustly. I learn from good authority, although 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 193 

I am not familiar with the terms of your father's will, that the estate 
is not altogether beyond your reach; I urge you, therefore, to make 
no delay in asserting your rights. Do all in your power to reverse 
the provisions of the will ; and if you succeed, my father will with- 
draw his objection to our marriage, and we shall then be happy. 

Yours ever, 

Julia Norman." 

Twice, and even thrice, did Julia read over this cunningly worded 
document, and in her innocence, she could make out nothing against 
its propriety. Her mother would have better understood it, but the 
young lady was not yet acquainted with the darker phases of her 
father's character. She did not suspect for a moment that he had 
spoken falsely in reference to his own bankruptcy, and in reference 
also to the alleged beggary of his wife and daughter. She could not 
think him capable of such monstrous meanness — all done, too, for the 
black purpose of driving Leroy into a reckless and criminal conspiracy 
against the rights of the l>egal heir. Many a man during the history 
of the world, has been urged to his own ruin by the woman he loved ; 
but Julia, if she had known the surroundings of the case, and had 
comprehended the animus of her miserly father, would have per- 
mitted her right hand to consume in the fire before employing it to 
copy that letter. 

" Why may I not show this letter to mother ? " she inquired. " It 
would look undutiful in me to do what you ask without consulting 
her." 

" This must not be, Julia. Your mother, I am sorry to say, takes 
delight in thwartiug my wishes ; and if you were to show this docu- 
ment to her and ask her advice, she would probably frighten you 
with her whimsical and bugbear fancies. Harbor no thought, my 
child, that your father would ask you to do an unmaidenly act. No, 
my child, you must not only say nothing to her about this letter, but 
you must not hint in the remotest manner, that we are so nearly on 
the verge of beggary. Promise me this." 

" Well, father, I will do as you require. I will copy the letter 
to-day and send it." 

So ended this important conference. Julia, in her want of experi- 
ence, had committed more than one blunder in her short life. She 
knew that Leroy sprang from a race of inebriates, and she knew 
also from common report, if not from personal observation, that he 
had frequently yielded to the temptation to drink. Yet she believed 
13 



194 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

as multiplied thousands of her sex had mistakenly believed before 
her, that in the event of their union, his attachment to her and her 
great influence over him, would bring him back from error, and 
redeem him from the curse which haunted his life. What a terrible 
risk the poor girl is incurring, yet in this instance her belief may be 
well founded. We shall see. 

Having disposed of this complicated subject in a manner satisfac- 
tory to himself, and having dismissed his daughter to her own apart- 
ment, General Norman settled his rather massive frame on a lounge 
in one corner of the library. He was decidedly pleased with what 
had been done, as the cheerfulness of his countenance indicated. It 
was after the dinner hour, and he desired to enjoy his customary 
siesta, or afternoon nap, after the manner of Spanish hidalgos and 
Virginia aristocrats. But he courted sleep in vain. The weather 
was becoming warm, and two large flies, inspired by the beauties of 
the day and the attractiveness of his person, promenaded joyfully 
over his face. Five times successively, he drove one of them from 
his forehead, and the other from the tip of his nose ; but his buzzing 
assailants were pertinacious, and were preparing for another raid on 
his personal rights, when, with an oath, he started to his feet, and 
began to pace the floor with angry and impatient steps. 

It must be stated here in behalf of the General, that if the Rector 
of the Parish had been present, the oath to which we have referred 
would not have found utterance. The General was very careful 
when in company, to observe the ordinary proprieties of life ; and 
there were many persons living in his own community who believed 
that he was a moral and conscientious man, greatly disposed to take 
on himself the obligations of a holy life. His wife knew better than 
this, and she would have separated from him long ago, but for her 
child's sake, and for the scandal and dishonor which always attach 
to matrimonial ruptures and divorces. She knew him to be unprin- 
cipled and deceitful, loving money and himself with idolatrous fer- 
vor. 

An hour passed away, and from his movements now, it was evident 
he expected a visitor. He would stop and listen for approaching 
steps, or go to a window and look out restlessly over the street. 
The visitor at length came in the person of Samuel Murdock, Esq., 
attorney -at -law, and secret and confidential agent of General Nor- 
man. He was a short, stout, breezy individual, with a small, black 
eye, and an unmistakably Jewish nose. It will be remembered that 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 195 

by order of the trustees appointed by William Belgrave, Sen., this 
lawyer had been for nearly seven years the custodian of the singu- 
lar will. Some months — it may have been much longer — prior to 
this visit of Murdock, it was mysteriously rumored that Mr. Belgrave, 
just before his last hour, had appended his signature to a later will 
which would very probably give the estate to Leroy. No one could 
tell from whom this rumor originated ; yet it was constantly bruited 
around that another will was actually in existence, and when found, 
it would very likely prove a good thing for Leroy Belgrave, only son 
of the testator. The conversation which follows between Norman 
and the lawyer, will now be more easily understood by the reader : 

"Did you bring the document with you ?" inquired the General, 
fastening the door, and taking a seat by the side of the lawyer. 

"Yes," replied the other, bringing into view a package of papers, 
•' I have brought both the will, and — and — the supplement, I mean, 
which I herewith submit to your inspection. 

Here General Norman took into his hands the supplemental will, 
about which so much had been said by way of rumor, and read as 
follows, under date of February 12th, 1828 — the instrument having 
been executed at Leesburg, county of Loudon, State of Virginia : 

" I William Belgrave, Sen., of the county and State aforesaid, 
being in my right mind, and desiring to commit no injustice against 
any one, do in the presence of these witnesses, revoke so much of 
my last will and testament, dated January 25th, 1828, as applies to 
the younger brothers of William Belgrave, Jun., the true intent and 
meaning of this instrument being, in case of a failure on the part of 
the said William Belgrave, Jun., to obtain the estate described in the 
said will, to have it revert to the sole ownership of my only son, 
Leroy Belgrave, now absent from home." 

I have not attempted to transcribe the above document with 
literal accuracy, nor have I given it in full, but have presented just 
enough for the purposes of this narrative. General Norman looked 
over it carefully, comparing its phraseology, and especially its pen- 
manship, with the will which was spread out before him. A smile of 
triumph curled his lip, as he remarked : 

" Murdock, you have executed this job gracefully. If old lawyer 
Rollins, who drafted the will of January 25th, were to rise from his 
grave, and look at this supplement, he would be induced to swear 
that he wrote it himself as certainly as he wrote the original. It is 



196 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

his penmanship, pothooks and all, to the dotting of an i and the 
crossing of a t. Bravo, brother Murdock ! " 

" I'm glad you are so well pleased," replied the attorney suavely. 
" But I've had a hard time of it, to straighten this thing out. Old 
Rollins' s peculiarities are hard to imitate. It is a glorious thing for 
our purpose that the old lawyer is in his grave, for dead men tell no 
tales. He'll hardly come back from "kingdom come," to accuse us 
of trying to imitate his style of chirography." 

"What now shall be done, Murdock, for witnesses to make this 
instrument legal? Have you thought much on this knotty subject?" 

"Of course I have. I have it all cut and dried to order. You 
remember the two men — one by the name ol George Woodbridge, 
and the other by the name of Lawrence Chandler — who left this part 
of the country for South America, six years ago, and have never 
since been heard from. They were men of excellent reputation, and 
were particular friends of Mr. Belgrave, Sen., of whose true will, as 
you know, they were witnesses. They are both probably as dead by 
this time as Julius Caesar, or as lawyer Rollins, and are, therefore, 
conveniently out of the way. What hinders me now from appending 
the names of these two gentlemen to this instrument?" 

"That's just the ticket,'' responded Norman delightedly. "By this 
one leap, we surmount all difficulties, except the one which refers to 
the manner of finding this little document, and of accounting for its 
absence for so many years." 

" Leave that matter to me, if you please," said the lawyer. "It is 
only necessary now for us to assure the public that there is a supple- 
mental will in my custody, which will be forthcoming whenever it 
shall be ascertained, in legal form, that William Belgrave, Jun., has 
failed to comply with the conditions of the original testament. If 
he stands up in his boots, proof against all temptation to drink, sup- 
porting an undisputed reputation for morality, this instrument which 
we have taken so much pains to manufacture, will never see the 
light." 

"I have thought sometimes," remarked Norman, meditatively, 
" that we might have framed a document which would cut off all 
these Belgraves, except Leroy; but this is simply impossible, and 
must, therefore, be abandoned. The way it stands now, it will not 
in any case invoke a formidable trial and investigation, such as 
would be invited, if the entire provisions of the will were reversed 
by this supplement. We do not want a heavy and exciting trial on 






THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 197 

our hands, because in that case, as we have intelligent enemies, we 
would stand a fair chance to have our plans blown to the winds, and 
ourselves imprisoned in the penitentiary." 

" You think wisely on this subject, General. What we have done, 
in the event of young Belgrave's failure, will be submitted to by all 
parties without any formal or serious investigation. There will then 
be no prominent contestants for the prize. Leroy will then have 
what the world calls his own, and there will be a general rejoicing 
over the fact that the fortune has gone into proper hands. We will 
let the matter rest now until after the 25th day of January next." 

" All right," said Norman blandly. " There is no farther need of 
discussing this subject. Through yourself, we have started a little 
enterprise in Ohio, which will result in flooring William Belgrave, 
Jun., and in giving the fortune to his cousin. I have silenced, or 
soon will silence, Leroy's scruples of conscience, and once embarked, 
he will never pause in his voyage until he reaches a hopeful harbor. 
Our conference is over for the present, I presume." 

"Not quite, General. There is another little subject to be disposed 
of. You and I have had no settlement during the past year, and I 
need money badly." 

" I thought," said the General, with a start, " that you were to wait 
for the balance I owe you, until this case is decided successfully. I 
shall be in funds then, and will be able to compensate you very 
liberally ; but at present, how do I know we shall ever realize a dollar 
from this risky venture ? " 

"General Norman," said the lawyer, rising, and confronting his 
confederate, "do you suppose that I will peril the loss of reputation, 
of liberty, and perhaps of life itself, for your sole behoof and benefit, 
without being paid roundly for my services ? " 

" Don't speak so loudly," replied Norman almost in a panic. " I 
thought I heard a step near the door a moment since. It would 
ruin us to be over-heard. Do calm yourself, and we will soon come 
to a better understanding." 

" I am just now as calm as I ever will be, so long as you talk about 
paying me a thousand years in the future. I have done several pro- 
fessional jobs for you, and I am always met with mere promises to 
pay at some indefinite period. You have always treated me in the 
most niggardly manner ; and now when I present to you the means, 
dishonorable as they may be, by which you and your future son-in- 
law, are to receive an estate worth a hundred thousand dollars, you 



198 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

return me an answer to the effect that I must wait your pleasure 
before receiving a dollar of compensation ! Why, sir, I am tempted 
to tear up this infamous instrument, and grind its fragments under 
my boot heel ! " 

" O don't do that," exclaimed the General, in alarm. " I want to 
treat you honorably, and will do so at all hazards. Here are fifty 
dollars to start on, and you shall have more in the future ! " 

" Fifty dollars, General ! Don't tempt me to curse you here in 
your own house ! Put up the money, or I'll sling it out at the 
window ! " 

"Why, what's the matter now?" questioned Norman in great 
surprise. " This is certainly very liberal. You are aware, Mr. Mur- 
dock, that the value of my property is greatly over-stated; and 
besides this, I am furnishing Leroy Belgrave, large sums of money, 
to assist him in securing his rights." 

" Do you call this liberal, General Norman? Is that paltry fifty- 
dollar bill a compensation for the services I have rendered to you ? 
Am I to sell my soul, and get nothing but that rag for the sale ? 
Here is my ultimatum in brief. Give me a check on your banker 
for one thusand dollars, and add to this your promissory note for 
four thousand dollars more, payable on the 25th day of January, 
1835. Do this, and I am at your service, for weal or woe, and for 
glory or dishonor, until defeat or success shall crown or Jriast our 
efforts ! " 

"You are mad, sir ! " exclaimed the General, in a burst of passion, 
forgetting his previous hint to the lawyer to keep silent. " Do you 
expect me to pay you five thousand dollars within nine months, five 
thousand dollars on a mere risk, which may terminate in a disaster ? 
I am too poor to indulge in such extravagance." 

" Poor!" said the lawyer with a sneer. "Very poor indeed, with 
your own estate worth a quarter of a million, and with your wife's 
and daughter's independent property, swelling the grand aggregate 
to three-hundred and fifty thousand dollars ! You must be a very 
Lazarus, indeed, eating the crumbs which fall from the rich man's 
table. Poor, with your elegant mansion, and magnificent lands ; 
poor, with your horses, your carriages, and your hundred negroes ; 
and poor, with your prospect of bringing a vast property through 
Belgrave, into your possession, It won't do. You have my propo- 
sition. I am about to go. What will you do ? " 

■' This is §0 very unexpected," §ajd General Norman, with a forcecj 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. lyy 

attempt at conciliation, in spite of his sweeping anger, " that I must 
have time to consider your extraordinary proposition. We are not 
in a fitting mood to discuss these matters at present. I intend to 
deal justly by you, but give me a week for reflection." 

" Be it so, then," said the other, arranging his papers to depart. 
" One week from to-day, at three o'clock in the afternoon, I will 
meet you here in the library. But mind, General, the proposition I 
make to - day will then be unchanged. I have served you faithfully 
and well, and the laborer is worthy of his hire. I wish to serve you 
still, but I was determined before I came here this afternoon, to 
make decided terms before incurring any more risks. You can 
afford to take chances, because you have great wealth to back you. 
I can not do this because I am poor, and poverty must work, not 
with chances, but with certainties. Good day, General." 

As the lawyer started to the door, Norman's quick ear detected a 
slight, rustling noise on the steps in front ; but when the door was 
opened, no intruder was visible, except a favorite little dog, Ponto, 
belonging to Julia. Little did the General know that his own daugh- 
ter, to whom he had made such a false and startling confession of 
poverty, two or three hours before, had heard, from a convenient 
position, a large portion of the conversation which has just been 
reported. In obedience to her father, she had copied the letter to 
Leroy, superscribed it, and taken it to the post-office, after which, 
on her return to the house, the sound of excited voices in the library 
attracted her attention. She was not an eaves-dropper by nature, 
but on this occasion, she followed up an impulse, and proceeded to 
a place where she could hear without discovery. The revelations 
which she heard amazed her. Was it possible that her father and 
his lawyer were engaged in a scheme which, in its execution, required 
the commission of positive crime ? Was it forgery to which they 
were lending themselves, and a forgery, too, which proposed to make 
a criminal of her lover, and render null and void the last Will and 
Testament of a man now in his grave ? Could it be that her father's 
statement to her of losses by speculation, and of certain disaster to 
come unless she came to the rescue, was all a falsehood, intended to 
urge her to write a letter which might impel her lover to any deed of 
desperation to secure a property which belonged to another ? No, 
no, this could not be. She believed her father to be honorable and 
ppble, infinitely above a criminal thought or act ; and believing this 



200 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

with her whole heart, she left her place of concealment to go to her 
own room, just as the lawyer was moving towards the door. 

Strongly intrenched as she was, however, in a belief of her father's 
integrity, she was resolved to be more observing in the future. It 
was her purpose, therefore, to hear what might be said in the library 
when the lawyer came back for his "pound of flesh." She decided, 
too, if opportunity offered, to visit the lawyer at his office, and ask 
him, plainly and boldly, to explain the nature of the secret under- 
standing which seemed to exist between him and her parent. Poor 
girl ! If she had been more experienced in the ways of the world, 
she would have known how perfectly futile it is to invite a practiced 
attorney to make any confession which might inculpate himself. At 
any rate, there was one thing she meant to do without fail, and that 
was, to understand, as speedily as possible, the precise nature of the 
mission on which Leroy had gone to Ohio, and why it was that her 
father, whom she knew to be very economical for a rich man, was 
lavishing money on her lover. She would forthwith write again to 
Leroy, asking him for a free and full explanation. And by the way, 
there was a young lady at Circleville, an intimate school acquaint- 
ance, by the name of Lucy Carrington, from whom she had not 
received a letter for several weeks. She would write to her, renew- 
ing the old correspondence, and it might be, as Leroy was stopping 
in that city, she would incidentally learn something of interest in 
regard to the questions which were exciting her. She now for the 
first time recalled the fact that the name of Lucy's affianced husband 
was Belgrave, in all probability the same William Belgrave to whom 
the estate which ought to have gone to Leroy, had been willed. 

She wrote her letters immediately, and having sent them to the 
office by her own servant Nellie, she made a few toilet preparations, 
and started out in quest of the lawyer. She would have consulted 
her mother in reference to the expediency of this and other meas- 
ures she had decided to adopt ; but she remembered the prohibition 
of her father, and feared that, in asking her mother's advice, she 
might communicate something she had promised not to tell. Her 
mind was unspeakably anxious as she threaded the streets, and she 
feared that the palpitations of her heart were audible to the lawyer, 
when she took the seat in his office to which he had invited her. He 
was surprised at her presence, and she was so much embarrassed 
that for some time she was unable to bring on the dramatic contest 
which succeeded. She at length began thus : 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 201 

" You no doubt think it strange, Mr. Murdock, that I, instead of 
my father, should visit you on a matter of business. But what I have 
to say will hardly come under the head of businesss. I wish to ask 
you a simple question at the start, and hope that you will not regard 
me as intrusive." 

" It is no intrusion whatever, Miss Norman, I assure you," replied 
Murdock, already on his guard. " It will give me great pleasure, 
as the friend and confidential agent of General Norman, to answer 
any questions, if in my power to do so, which you may propound. 
You have perfect liberty to proceed." 

" I have had an impression," said she, striving to free herself from 
embarrassment, "that my father has conceived some plan, which 
he thinks will succeed in giving to Leroy Belgrave a certain large 
property which was devised to his cousin in Ohio. I presume you 
know something about this plan, Mr. Murdock, do you not ? " 

This was a center shot, and for a moment the lawyer was con- 
founded. Was he to be beaten in diplomacy by an artless and inex- 
perienced girl ? He turned away his head, looked out at the window, 
sneezed, blew his sinuous nose, and then, summoning all his wits to 
the contest, he politely answered : 

"It is very likely, Miss Norman, very likely, under the circum- 
stances — that is — that is, madam — if reports be true, that your 
father should take a very decided interest in his future — that is, I 
mean — his young friend, Leroy Belgrave." 

The lawyer was so completely taken down by the simple adroit- 
ness of his questioner, that his very confusion gave her an answer 
as explicit as could have been given by an unequivocal response. 
Meanwhile she was gaining courage in proportion as he was lapsing 
into moral cowardice. It was now her turn to speak again : 

" You need not answer that question further, Mr. Murdock. What 
you have said thus far is perfectly satisfactory. I take it for granted 
then that this plan is well known to you. The relation you sustain 
to my father, in a business capacity, and the confidence he reposes 
in your judgment, prove this to my satisfaction. Now, I ask you, 
as you value your own peace of mind, to tell me, on the honor of a 
gentleman, how much of this plan is to be executed in person by 
Leroy Belgrave ? I wrote to him to-day under a false impression, I 
am afraid, urging him to leave untried no possible effort by which he 
might be re -instated in his rights as the heir of his dead father. 
Now, Mr. Murdock, if this plan with which you are acquainted, 



202 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

involves personal risk in its execution, and black dishonor, as I fear 
it does, what will I think of myself at the last, when I shall realize 
that, but for my urgent entreaty, Leroy would never have engaged 
in this enterprise ? And what will you think of yourself, too, if, by 
permitting me to remain in ignorance of this plan, this young man 
shall be urged to wrong doing, remorse, and shameful punishment, 
and myself to lifelong regret and final despair ? Think of these 
things, Mr. Murdock, and tell me plainly and honorably what this 
plan is, of which I have so much dread, so that the great wrong 
which, in my innocence and ignorance, may have been committed, 
can be repaired before it ends in crime, despair and death." 

Had the floor suddenly sunk away beneath Murdock, carrying 
him down to the invisible depths of the earth, it is difficult to say 
whether he would have regarded this change of base as a disaster, 
or as a signal deliverance from tormenting questions. While 
employed in his regular profession, he was brave to assurance, and 
sometimes even to impertinence ; but he was a bachelor, unused to 
a great extent to ladies' society. It was not marvelous, therefore, 
that in this interview with Julia, he should feel confused and bewil- 
dered. He felt now a strong inclination to be truthful in relation to 
the errand on which Leroy had gone to Ohio ; but this spasm of 
virtue was chilled to death at its birth by the reflection that this 
course might bring to him the most ruinous consequences. In spite 
of his imperfect knowledge of woman's nature, he knew that Julia 
was impulsive and highly conscientious ; and if she were made 
acquainted with the real facts of the case, she would move heaven 
and earth to remedy the wrong which she had unwittingly com- 
mitted. He was fearful that she would call her father to account for 
inciting her, by false pretences, to copy a letter which, in general 
terms, stimulated Leroy to deeds of lawlessness and desperation. 
In this view of the case, it was not long before the lawyer came to 
a definite conclusion. He would be very kind and affable, but at 
the same time he would be non-committal as a politician. From 
that moment his courage revived, and his response, which follows, 
was as smooth as a lake in a dead calm : 

" I am sure, Miss Norman, that you are giving yourself unneces- 
sary uneasiness on this subject. Our mutual friend Leroy, is high- 
toned and honorable, and this renders it certain, in my mind, and 
yours also, that whatever may be the temptation, he would never 
descend to, a mean or mercenary act, Besides this, he has discretion 






THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 203 

and courage, and is abundantly able to take care of himself. Per- 
haps you have heard — and the rumor is a true one — that a supple- 
mental will, executed by his father, has been found, which is greatly 
more favorable to Leroy, than the original instrument. The young 
man has gone to Ohio, simply to look after his interests in this 
direction. This he has a perfect right to do ; and were he to fail at 
this point, all his friends, including yourself, would condemn him for 
such reckless indifference to his own welfare." 

Here the lawyer paused, believing that his plausible tongue had 
achieved an easy victory, and there was nothing more to do except 
except to wear his laurels with becoming dignity. Still, as he glanced 
at the face of the young lady, the gleam of indignant light which 
flashed from her blue eyes, chilled the ardor of his conscious triumph, 
and made him tremble in prospect of a probable explosion. He 
was not destined to wait long in uncertainty. For her answer came 
thus : 

" You have gone aside, Mr. Murdock, from the plain question 
which I proposed. There is no need of trifling or prevarication, for 
this does not deceive me. You confessed you knew the nature 
of the plan, or conspiracy, if you please, which is now in progress to 
secure this property ; and when I ask you to enlighten me in regard 
to that part of it in which Leroy is involved, you answer in a doubt- 
ful and shuffling way, which proves that you are artfully concealing 
the truth. Truth, you know, hates all disguises, such as those with 
which you are trying to clothe her. Mr. Murdock, young and inex- 
perienced as I am, I know more about this matter than you 
imagine ; and were I to tell you all I know concerning that late will, 
which has turned up so singularly, you would not dare to trifle with 
my question !" 

The lawyer started as though a hornet had stung him. He was 
suddenly let down from his position of vain-glory, for he felt that, to 
an indefinite extent, he was now in the power of the young girl, 
whose penetrating eyes seemed to read his very heart. A brilliant 
thought, however, came to his assistance, and he began to reveal it 
with great energy. 

" I have not, Miss Norman, placed you on the witness stand for 
direct and cross-examination, as you have placed me this afternoon. 
I do not ask you to disclose your knowledge, if you have any, of the 
will, to which you refer. Pardon me, if I remark here that I do not 
seek information in any clandestine way. More than this, you 



204 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

would hardly do anything, or say anything, which would compromise 
your father." 

Vague as were the lawyer's concluding remarks, they were imme- 
diately comprehended by his listener. Had he not accused her of 
acting in a clandestine manner, in order to obtain information ? Did 
he really suspect that she had over-heard the conference in the 
library ? This must be the only natural interpretation of his 
language. The crimson mounted to her cheeks, and she felt 
abashed and mortified, and withal insulted at a very sensitive point. 
She was conscious she had lost her vantage ground, and nothing 
farther could be gained by this interview. She was not sorry, there- 
fore, when the door opened, and a small, glistening African boy, 
black as midnight without moon or star, thrust his woolly head into 
view, exclaiming : 

" Mass' Murdock, supper is done been ready for you at de tarvern, 
dis long time. De res' all eat and done gone away ! " 

Having thus disburdened himself, little Pompey — named for the 
illustrious Roman who was stabbed by Septimius on the shore of 
Egypt — darted out of the room, leaving no trace behind of his 
excentric flight. This interruption was well-timed and ludicrous, 
having a good effect on the two contestants, who had thus far gained 
nothing by their passage at arms. They both laughed in spite of 
their efforts at self-control. Julia rose to depart, remarking as she 
did so : 

" I will detain you no longer. On my part, and I presume it is the 
same on yours, this interview has been in perfect confidence. 
I will not seek to injure you, nor any one else, by divulging secrets 
which chance or Providence may have confided to my keeping. I 
could wish that you had been more frank and ingenuous with me, as 
this course would have made clear to me what ought to be done to 
save kirn, and others, from danger and disgrace. Excuse me for the 
liberty I have taken. Good day, sir." 

"Well, she is a magnificent girl, and smart as tacks," thought the 
lawyer, on his way to the hotel. True, she had piqued him, and 
wounded his vanity ; but the old bachelor who had seen forty sum- 
mers come and go, and whose locks were whitening with the frost of 
years, was profoundly fascinated by her charms. It is probable a 
hope at the moment flashed into his mind, that Leroy might be 
crushed out by the conspiracy in which he was involved, and that 
the coils which were gradually encircling General Norman, would 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 205 

yet Compel that gentleman to urge the marriage of his daughter to 
his confidential agent, Samuel Murdock, Esq. It was this thought, 
or one akin to it, which made the lawyer tread the streets of Lees- 
burg with greater dignity than usual. 

Julia did not know that, while she was absent at the lawyer's 
office, her father's suspicious temperament had induced him to go to 
the post-office, on a peculiar errand. He took the postmaster aside, 
and made the following communication to him : 

" I am here, Mr. Gregg, on a little business of confidence. You 
and I have known each other for years, and our relations have been 
mutually friendly and intimate. You are aware that on account of 
his dissipated habits, I have discouraged the addresses of Leroy Bel- 
grave to my daughter. His poverty I can over-look, but his intem- 
perance, never! Still I am satisfied, in spite of all my influence to 
the contrary, that a secret correspondence is going on between them. 
She wrote to him to-day, and that letter may go to its destination, for 
I presume it will do no harm. In the course of ten days, I shall 
start on a trip to the West, and will be absent several weeks. During 
this time, I wish you to intercept all letters which may pass between 
these two silly young people. And if, before I go, any letters are 
deposited by her, or received from him, hand them to me for safe- 
keeping. Remember that all letters to her, which are post-marked 
at any place in Ohio, are the ones to be intercepted. In doing this, 
Mr. Gregg, I simply exercise the just authority of a father, anxious 
to preserve the honor, and secure the happiness of his child. Will 
^ you do this for me ? " 

"I will with great pleasure," replied the official, and here the 
solemn conference ended. 

As the days flitted by in their monotonous rounds, Julia sent often, 
and went oftener herself, to the office, expecting responses to her 
letters, but none came. She was deeply grieved, but waited on until 
hope was nearly gone. Weeks passed away, and not a word came 
from her friend Lucy ; and worse than all, an unbroken mystery 
seemed to envelope the movements of Leroy. Could he have broken 
faith with her ? Were all his vows and protestations like letters 
which are written in the sand, to be washed away by the out-going 
tide? No, that was impossible. With all his faults, Leroy was true; 
but he had enemies who were seeking for opportunities to destroy 
him. Who were these enemies ? She thought on this subject until 
her head and her heart ached with direst pain, and until she 



206 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

resolved, in her anguish and desolation, to visit Lucy at Circleville, 
and learn from her own lips the cause of her silence, and in addition, 
learn all that was practicable in reference to Leroy. 

The adjourned meeting between Norman and Murdock in the 
library, came off according to appointment. The former appeared 
self-possessed and composed, while the latter was restless and 
uneasy, and sometimes abstracted, as though he were pondering 
some new subject which seemed to absorb his mind. He brought 
his papers with him as usual, especially the one which he had been 
manipulating so long. This document was finished, having on its 
face, all the evidences of perfect legality. It was an adroit forgery, 
worthy of its author. Norman was very much pleased with it. 

" That will do splendidly," said he. " It would decieve the finest 
expert in Virginia; and nothing but the resurrection of these 
witnesses from the dead, could bring us into trouble. By the way, 
Murdock, it would be better for me to have the custody of this 
instrument. It would not be proper for persons to inspect it until 
the time when it will be needed. I have a secure place in which to 
keep it ; and as I shall be absent for some time, you can state to all 
questioners, in case I have the care of it, that it cannot be seen until 
my return. This will relieve you from all anxiety concerning it." 

" Be it as you please," replied Murdock. " I don't like to have the 
care of such explosives, anyhow. The will is genuine, and I'll retain 
that; but this other nameless affair, which makes me shudder when 
I look on it, you may keep in welcome, I would like to wash my 
hands of it altogether, and will do so this day, unless you and I 
can agree as to the compensation I am to receive for the loss of my 
soul! " 

"Why, man, what's the matter?" exclaimed the General in trepi- 
dation. "Have you seen the ghost of Banquo, that you should lose 
your equanimity in this disorderly style ?" 

" No, I have seen no ghost; but I have seen enough to convince 
me that walls have ears, and that we are liable to have our secrets 
shared with outside listeners. Pray, what noise is that?" 

Obviously the same kind of rustling sound was heard which had 
disturbed Norman the week before. Murdock hastily gathered up 
his papers, while the General hurried to the door which was locked, 
opened it and looked out. Nothing suspicious could be seen. Even 
the little dog, who had been lurking there on the former occasion, 
was absent. 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 207 

" Pooh!" ejaculated the General, re-locking the door, and return- 
ing to his seat. "I have always given you credit, Murdock, for more 
bravery than I possess myself. I never saw you so shaky before. 
Come, let us take a little wine to strengthen our nerves." 

That was just what the lawyer most desired, as the large draught 
of exciting fluid he imbibed, fully proved. He now felt better, and 
proceeded to say : 

" I have not been well for the past few days, and this accounts for 
my nervousness. Neither you nor I have any reason to apprehend 
trouble, except that which comes from uneasy consciences. We 
have elected to take this course, and if it ends in an explosion, why, 
we must make the most of it. From your wealth and position, you 
are far better off than I. Money does and will baffle the hounds of 
justice; but I, poor devil that I am, cannot do this, but must abide 
the consequences. I'll take another drink, if your please." 

" Do you think, Murdock, that in the event you speak of, you 
would not have one powerful friend, at least, to defend you ? Have 
I so fallen in your opinion, that you believe I would desert you in 
the hour of danger?" 

"I don't know," replied the other mournfully. "No man knows 
what he would do in given circumstances, until he is tried. Peter 
did not believe he would ever deny his Lord, yet he did it. You 
believe now you would not forsake your servant when the hour of 
trial comes, yet the other day, when I asked you for money earned a 
thousand times over in your perilous service, you offered me the 
paltry sum of fifty dollars, with which to purchase my redemption 
from prison, and perhaps from death." 

"Don't think of that any more," responded the General. "I 
have thought better of that since then. I have decided to deal 
generously with you. I have not my check -book at hand, but here 
are a thousand dollars, as you see — ten bills of the denomination of 
a hundred dollars each — and besides this, here is my unconditional 
note of hand, binding me to pay you four thousand dollars on the 
twenty-fifth day of January next." 

" You are very generous indeed," said Murdock, completely taken 
back by this unexpected liberality. He began to think that General 
Norman was not the miserable skinflint which he had supposed him 
to be, but was a chivalrous gentleman, ready and willing to do his 
duty toward his subordinates. 

" Now I will take care of that document," remarked Norman 



208 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

quietly, as he took the indicated paper, and placed it in a creaking, 
old-fashioned iron safe in the corner. " I '11 put the key in my 
pocket for safe keeping. I design to start to • morrow morning for 
the West, and while I am gone, I want you to look after our mutual 
interests. Write to me from time to time, and I shall be glad to 
hear from you. Let us take a parting glass together." 

The two worthies drank deeply, and then separated with apparent 
good will. Meantime Julia, according to her previous intention, had 
been a listener, hoping to gain more definite intelligence in regard 
to the movements of Leroy. Once she was driven in haste from 
the steps when her father came to the door, and she disappeared 
around an angle of the house just in time to escape observation. 
With a beating heart, she persistently returned, in time to hear her 
father refer to the large sums of money which he was paying over to 
Murdock. To her, who knew her father so well, this act of munifi- 
cence was past all comprehension, unless it was designed to cement 
a compact between two high-handed villains. What! her father a 
villain ? She blushed to have a suspicion of this kind, and repaired 
to her own room, almost crazed by the horrible mysteries by which 
she was surrounded. 

The next morning, the usually quiet village or city, of Leesburg, 
was in a fever of terrible excitement. Early in the day, a visitor to 
the lawyer's office, finding the door locked, peered through a win- 
dow, and beheld a sight which chilled him with terror ! Murdock 
was lying on his bed, his face ghastly as the face of death, and great 
stains of coagulated blood were visible about his head, and over his 
person, and even down on the covering which trailed near the floor. 
The visitor gave the alarm, and in a short time the sheriff, and a sur- 
geon, followed by a tumultuous rush of citizens, reached the office. 
The door was burst open, and the whole scene of horror was exposed 
to the inspection of all. 

On examination, the surgeon discovered two or three formidable 
wounds on the victim's head, evidently inflicted with some blunt 
instrument. A hatchet lay on the floor, which, being examined, 
proved to be the instrument which had been used. Ghastly as was 
the appearance of the lawyer, he was not dead, but was lying in a 
state of insensibility. His wounds, though severe and dangerous, 
were not necessarily fatal. Such was the decision of the surgeon. 

The greatest curiosity prevailed to know who the assassin was ; 
but it was not until two or three days had elapsed, that Murdock was 



TttE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 200 

able to give an account of the transaction. We append his version 
of it: 

" I went to bed at my usual hour, after having locked the door, 
and extinguished the light. I noticed, before retiring, that the night 
was very dark and cloudy, although the moon would rise at a late 
hour. I remember to have awakened once, thinking it was nearly 
day. I heard a sound like that of steps near the door, but knowing 
that persons passed and repassed at all hours, I was not alarmed, 
but immediately relapsed into sleep. When I awoke again, it was 
evident from the noise that was made, and from what I could see in 
the darkness, that the door was open partially, and" a man of large 
frame was in the room. Now thoroughly alarmed, I made a move- 
ment to spring out of bed to defend myself, when I heard a voice 
exclaiming : "Take that, you scoundrel ! " and this was followed on 
the instant by a blow which ^nocked me senseless. The object of 
the ruffian was booty, for all my money was taken." 

Here a bystander interposed this question : 

" Did you recognize the voice of the assassin, when he uttered 
those words ?" 

" I think I did ; in fact, I am sure of it," replied the lawyer. " But 
I will make no disclosures at present. In my state of weakness 
now, with my senses all in confusion, I am liable to make a mistake, 
and a very bad one, by charging this crime on an innocent party. 
I shall wait till I get well, and until the case is brought into court, 
before I speak on this subject again." 

This declaration cut oif all further questioning for the present. 
Enough had been said, however, to reveal the fact that the intended 
murderer was identified ; but nothing definite was known in regard 
to the amount of money that was taken. Not a word did the lawyer 
lisp in reference to the thousand dollars, and the large promissory 
note, received from General Norman, all of which were gone. The 
unfortunate victim lingered through a tedious convalescence, and it 
was several weeks before he was able to resume the practice of his 
profession. But even then, when brought before the tribunal as a 
witness lor the State, he would not, for reasons of his own at the 
time, identify the assassin, leaving the court to infer that he was in 
doubt in regard to the criminal, and was too just to hazard an uncer- 
tain accusation. 
14 



210 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 



CHAPTER IX. 

The atttempted murder of Mr. Murdock was not the only deed of 
mystery which was committed in Leesburg, during that eventful 
night. Julia, on retiring to bed at ten o'clock, realized a feeling of 
intense unhappiness in a retrospection of the past. The uncertainty 
which seemed to cloud the destiny of her lover, bore on her mind 
with almost intolerant weight. The equivocal position of her father, 
was a new source of misery, from which she shrank in alarm. She 
could not sleep. An insane, or it might be better styled, a morbid 
curiosity seized her to explore the old safe in the library, knowing 
that the forged will was there, and fancying, too, there were other 
documents along with it which might throw light on the deep mys- 
tery involving her dearest friends. Twice she stepped out on the 
floor, resolved to obtain the safe key from her father's pockets while 
he slept, but her heart failed her both times, and she went back to 
her bed. 

The great clock in the dining room tolled the hour of two, and 
she was still awake, nervous and restless. A boding fear, such as 
she had never experienced before, burdened her heart with its 
superincumbent weight. She could endure this agony no longer, 
and rising from her couch, she moved out into the hall, and was 
standing before the door of the library, before she seemed to com- 
prehend the nature of her own actions. Up to this time, she had had 
no definite purpose in view, but was controlled by a kind of instinct 
or fascination, which governs the somnambulist. Coming to herself 
fully, and frightened at the thick darkness in which she was blindly 
groping, she was about to retrace her steps as well as she was able, 
when the hall door in front softly opened, and some one entered 
with great cautiousness. Whoever it was, he was approaching her, 
for she could hear the light tap of his feet on the floor. 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 211 

She hardly knew what to do in this extremity, but as she was 
receding silently from the intruder, she came to an off- set in the 
wall, formed by a door which led into an untenanted room. She 
might have shrieked out for help ; but this, from some indefinable 
feeling, she did not do. Crouching back into the niche formed by 
the door, she waited for what was to come, trembling like a leaf in 
the wind. On came the intruder, and Julia, thinking he was about 
to pass her, shrank back still further into the off- set. She need not 
have done this, for the nocturnal visitor paused at the door of the 
library, and fumbling with a key for awhile to find the lock, he 
opened the door and entered the room. A minute thereafter, she 
saw a light streaming out from the library into the hall. Certainly, 
the stranger — if stranger he was — was familiar with the location 
of the apartments, and with the places where lights could be pro- 
cured. He had left the door ajar, from the top and side of which 
flashed out the little illumination. 

Nerved by an indomitable will, and controlled by a fascination as 
strong as that which a serpent exercises over his victim, she noise- 
lessly left her place of concealment, and passed on to the library. 
No matter how much she trembled, she was determined to follow 
out the adventure to its natural termination. Looking in at the door, 
so as not to be perceived, she saw a large, commanding figure — that 
of a man — standing by the side of the safe, on which a candle 
was burning. His back was toward her at first, but a moment after, 
when he turned partly around, revealing a side view of his features, 
she recognized, to her amazement, the countenance of General 
Norman, her own father ! She was not so much surprised to see him 
up at that irregular hour, for he was a man of singular habits ; but 
she was astonished and pained above measure to see the paleness 
and absolute ghastliness of his face, on which, as well as on his 
hands and part of his clothing, she beheld stains like those of 
blood. She was spell -bound and horror-stricken, unable to move 
or cry out, suffering from a hideous nightmare. 

While she was in this statue -like condition, looking at him unob- 
served, with a fixed and stony gaze, he took a key from his pocket, 
and, stooping, unlocked the safe. He then took from a breast 
pocket a package of papers, among which Julia noticed two or three 
instruments of writing, and a number of crisp bank bills. For a 
short time he held the package in his hand, looking at it in a kind of 
gloomy and abstracted way, as though there was something about 



212 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

it which excited unpleasant thoughts. At length this mood, what- 
ever it was, passed away, and the package was deposited in a 
remote corner of the safe. Up to this moment, Julia had been held 
to her place by some invincible spell ; but this now gave way to an 
absorbing desire to get away from the library without seeing more, 
and without being seen herself. Silently she glided back through 
the hall to the door where she had formerly been concealed. Here 
she stopped to reflect ; and while standing in the obscurity, she 
looked back toward the library. It was all in darkness. The light 
had evidently been blown out. 

Suddenly she heard steps near the library door. Her father was 
coming out. She heard him pull the door after him, and leave it, 
apparently forgetting to lock it. He was coming toward her, mov- 
ing cautiously and almost silently through the dense darkness. 
Down into the little niche she crouched, holding her breath for fear 
that it might become audible. As he passed her, a slight metallic 
ring was heard, as though a piece of money, or some other metal, 
had fallen from his pocket to the carpet which covered the hall 
floor. It was a very slight sound indeed, and but for the fact that 
her hearing had been rendered wondrously acute by the tension of 
her nerves, she would not have heard it at all. As she heard his 
steps receding, she noted that he was not moving in the direction 
of his own and his wife's apartments, but toward the upper part of 
the building. Very soon the noise of his footsteps — and he made 
as little noise as possible — was lost in the distance. 

She now began to breathe more freely, and, emerging from her 
hiding-place, she groped around to discover what it was her father 
had dropped. At last her hand struck against it. It was a key, and 
from its shape as she felt it, she decided that it was the key of the 
safe. The old feeling of curiosity which at first stimulated her to the 
labor of investigation, to find out all she could in reference to 
Leroy Belgrave, came back with great force ; and in addition, the 
inclination to penetrate the mystery of her father's strange acts and 
stranger appearance, was simply irresistible. She took the key as a 
Providential gift, for the time being, and walking to the library door, 
she found it unlocked, as she expected, and passed in. 

Shutting the door softly behind her, she moved on to the safe, 
whose position, dark as it was, she perfectly understood, and found 
on it the candle which had been left by her father. Near it lay a 
sand paper, along with some matches of the old Lucifer style, 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 2V6 

which were in use forty years ago. She struck a light with the help 
of the sand paper, and then proceeded deliberately to open the safe, 
and inspect its contents. She discovered the package which her 
father had placed there, and found it to consist of a thousand dol- 
lars in bills, and besides some unimportant papers, a promissory 
note executed by her father in favor of Samuel Murdock for four 
thousand dollars. Those were the bills, and that was the very note, 
about which the lawyer and her father had been conversing the 
day before. It was all perfectly unintelligible to her, but her heart 
was chilled with the consciousness that some dreadful wrong had 
been committed. There were many other articles in the safe which 
she investigated anxiously, but none of them gave her the informa- 
tion she sought. She had hoped to find some letter, or some docu- 
ment, which would relieve her mind in regard to the part which 
Leroy had been induced to take in the conspiracy now in progress, 
both in Virginia and Ohio. She was terribly disappointed. The 
last paper she found was the forged Will, and this she scanned 
intently. The more she examined it, inexperienced as she was in the 
handicraft of swindlers, the more she was convinced it was a coun- 
terfeit presentment, gotten up long after the death of the testator, 
for the worst possible purposes. The conviction at length burned 
itself into her soul, that her loved and idolized father, whom, from 
her infancy, she had regarded as a man of honor, was now leagued 
with Murdock in developing a scheme of plunder, in which Leroy 
himself had been induced — perhaps by his great love for her — to 
take a disgraceful part. This conviction, joined to the recollection 
of her father's unnatural appearance in that very chamber but a 
little while before, made her sick almost to faintness. She felt she 
was surrounded by shadowy and gigantic mysteries, which baffled 
investigation at every point. But there was one thing she could do : 
At all events, whatever might be the issue, she could take this coun- 
terfeit Will, and place it where its baneful influence could never 
react for evil on the fair fame of those whom she loved more than 
herself. She therefore secreted it on her person, and having relocked 
the safe, and taken out the key, she blew out the light and prepared 
to leave the room. But she had hardly reached the door, when she 
was made to pause in fright. Quick steps, familiar to her ear, were 
heard advancing in the hall. It was General Norman, returning, 
perhaps, for the key which he had missed. What should she do ? 
To proceed would be to confront him. She thought of the lounge, 



214 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

behind which she might hide herself. With her, to think was to act, 
for she was a girl of strong impulses. Placing the key down on the 
floor, she hastened to her place of concealment. 

General Norman was evidently agitated, for his recklessness in 
regard to making a noise as he advanced, proved this. Blundering 
against the door in the darkness, it flew open, and he found admis- 
sion. Hastily striking a light, and taking it in his hand, he peered 
about the room in great eagerness, coming near the lounge. Julia 
was almost certain she would be discovered. Frightened as she 
was, she was glad to notice that the suspicious stains which she had 
seen on his person, were gone. Had her morbid fancy induced her, 
an hour since, to believe that blood was on his face, his hands, and 
his garments ? Or, on the other hand, had he simply changed his 
clothing, and purified himself with water, thereby obliterating those 
marks of blood ? Even in her terror, exposed as she was to discov- 
ery, she would have been thrilled with delight, if she could have 
forced herself to believe that those curdling stains had been but 
the products of her disordered imagination, instead of stern and 
appalling realities, which had frozen the blood in her veins. 

" There is that cursed key, now!" muttered the General, as he 
picked up the lost property. " I wonder how I could have lost it. I 
could not go on my journey without it. No more precious time must 
be lost. It is now nearly day, and I must be off for Ohio before the 
hue and cry of excitement about this affair startles the whole county ! 
But I am the last man they would suspect. No felon's halter will 
ever encircle my neck. I am glad he 's out of the way. He was 
getting to be dangerous and exacting, lording it over me like a slave- 
driver with his whip. Besides this, J' ve used him as long as I 
need him ; and now let the cur sleep in his grave. I do not care to 
bid my wife farewell before leaving ; but little Julia, my pet and 
darling, for whose best interests I am taking this trip — I would like 
to kiss her as she sleeps, before I move out on this stormy adventure 
to the West. I feel strangely nervous, and must have more brandy. 
So the safe 's all right ; I can go now in peace." 

If General Norman had been listening with any degree of atten- 
tion, instead of being absorbed by his own dark -winged thoughts, 
he would have heard when out in the hall, after leaving the library, 
a low, wailing sound, like that which emanates from a crushed and 
hopeless spirit : . 

" O, my father, my dear father ! how could you thus cruelly grieve 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 215 

me ?" came in muffled gasps from the lips of Julia, as she threw 
herself on the lounge in helpless agony. " What deed of horror, O, 
my God! has been committed this night? Why was I spared to 
know the horrible truth that my father, my noble and revered 
father, is — is — O, it is dreadful, dreadful, dreadful! If my poor 
mother knew the thousandth part of what I know in this awful hour, 
it would kill her — blast her in soul and body. But I must not tell 
her. I must carry this dark secret alone ; and, crime -stained as he 
may be, I will, with all the earnestness of a daughter's love, shield 
my father from all harm, and preserve his secret to the last. May 
God help me to know my duty, and to do it." 

This prayer, welling up from an agonized heart, was not heard by 
General Norman. He was busy now with thoughts of preparation 
for his journey. From some cause, he was supremely anxious to 
get away from Leesburg. His intention to start that morning on a 
business trip to several points in the west, was well known to his 
family, and to his neighbors ; but the haste he was making to get off 
at an unusually early hour, was inexplicable. His design was to 
travel horseback to Wheeling, where he had friends residing, and 
after remaining there a few days or weeks as the case might be, pro- 
ceed by the stage-coach to the interior of Ohio. It was years before 
the era of railways was inaugurated, and a journey from the Old 
Dominion, as Virginia was called, to central Ohio, was a far more 
difficult and tedious undertaking than it is at present. The gray- 
light of morning was just shooting up the eastern sky, when the 
General, with the help of a favorite servant, who was to accompany 
him as far as his good offices were needed, mounted his horse, and 
moved away onhis travels. He did not even wait for his breakfast, 
and when, two hours afterward, that meal was announced, Mrs. 
Norman expressed astonishment at his early and precipitate depart- 
ure. Still, she was less surprised and pained at this circumstance, 
than she was at the pale and disturbed appearance of her daughter, 
who sat in her place at the table. Knowing, however, the fondness 
of Julia for her father, she ascribed the daughter's affliction to the 
grief she must feel at this parting, and to the fact, too, that her father 
had gone without bidding her good-bye. This, indeed, was the only 
explanation which, under the circumstances, the poor girl could give 
herself, and it was accepted without special discussion. 

Then followed days and days of anxiety and wretchedness to 
Julia. The non-arrival of expected letters, the uncertain fate of 



216 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

Leroy, and beyond this, the consciousness that her father was not 
only a forger, but was somehow seriously associated with the 
attempted murder of the lawyer — all these depressed her spirits to the 
verge almost of insanity. And at last, as intimated in another 
place, she resolved to visit Circleville, and seek intelligence there 
which she could not obtain in Virginia. By continuous entreaty, her 
mother's consent was secured, provided her cousin on the mother's 
side, Edward Clayton, an exemplary young merchant of a neighbor- 
ing city, would go with her as companion and protector. This, on 
being addressed, he gladly promised to do. True, Mrs. Norman 
had many misgivings as to the absolute propriety of this course, 
but she saw very plainly that unless her daughter found relief from 
the terrible gloom which burdened her, the result would be perma- 
nent derangement of her health, and probably of her mind. 

It was but a day or two before the time of starting, when, as she 
was passing the lawyer's office to call on a friend up town, Murdock, 
who was standing in his door, invited her in, for a moment, express- 
ing a desire to communicate some matters of importance. She 
readily consented, hoping he would be more frank and candid than 
he had been on a former occasion. It is well to state before report- 
ing the extraordinary conversation which ensued, that weeks had 
elapsed since the night of the tragedy, and Murdock was fully 
recovered from the effects of his wounds. Julia did not notice, or if 
she did, she thought not of the significance of his act, that on enter- 
ing the office and taking her seat, the lawyer shut the door, and 
locked it, thus evincing his determination to keep her a prisoner 
during his pleasure. 

"Miss Norman," said he, sinking into a chair, and slipping the key 
unperceived into his pocket, "I have invited you here to have a 
more free and unreserved conversation than we had some weeks 
ago. I wish to speak to you of your father, and of your friend, Mr. 
Belgrave." 

"Then you have heard of them?" she inquired eagerly, an expres- 
sion of joy lighting up her face. " I am so glad, Mr. Murdock, that 
you can give me information in regard to those who are, you know, 
nearest my heart. Neither my mother nor myself have had a line 
from father since he went away. We do not even know now where 
to address him. The same is true of Mr. Belgrave, for if he still 
remains at Circleville, I am sure we would hear from him. Do tell 
me, Mr. Murdock, what you know about them." 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 21? 

"The character of my information, my dear Miss Norman," 
replied the lawyer, emphasizing the affectionate word, " is not such, 
I regret to say, as you imagine. Like yourself, I have not had a 
word from either of these gentlemen of whom you speak. Still I 
desire to speak about them, and first in regard to your father. I 
presume you have heard, Miss Norman, that the assassin who 
attempted to take my life, I could have identified, if it had pleased 
me to do so." 

•'Yes, I have heard this," responded Julia, with a sudden revulsion 
of feeling which made her sick and dizzy with apprehension, "but 
I have heard too, that when you were called on to testify in a legal 
manner, you were not able to fix the crime on any particular person. 
Why should you speak to me on this subject? It is very strange, 
sir, that you should wish to consult me on matters of this kind." 

"It is not strange at all," said the lawyer coldly and cruelly, every 
word stabbing the heart of his listener. "You are more interested 
in this matter than you suppose, as you will discover before this con- 
versation terminates. I know the murderer — for he is such at heart 
— far better than I know you; and anytime within these four weeks, 
I could have identified him beyond all dispute, and brought him to 
the punishment he so richly deserves. For the sake of one person, 
and one alone in the world, I have generously left him thus far to his 
liberty, and to the stings of his own conscience." 

Julia heard all this as in a dream, and its import she could not 
fully comprehend. She understood, however, that he meant her 
father, when he spoke of the murderer; but what person was that 
for whose sake he had forborne to visit the vengeance of the law on 
the assassin ? 

"What do you mean, Mr. Murdock ? I want now to know it all. 
There is some horrible meaning in your words, which demands an 
explanation. Speak freely, and know, sir, whatever you have to say, 
I will try to bear it in patience." 

"Well, I will come to the point at once," remarked her companion 
with the coolness of an experienced attorney, regardless of the 
wounds he was inflicting. " When the assassin came into this room, 
and approached that bed which you see, wielding a deadly weapon 
with which to take my life, the words which he uttered in that 
moment of fate, betrayed him. Surely as you sit here, and certainly 
as I shall meet that man at the Judgment Bar, those words came 
from the lips of General Norman, your father ! You start in surprise 



218 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

and terror, and well you may ; but calm yourself and hear the rest. 
This man — your father, remember — not only sought my life in the 
most cowardly manner, but after beating me to insensibility, and to 
death, as he believed, took from my person, as the midnight thief 
takes spoils, a thousand dollars in bills, and a note of hand for four 
thousand more, which he had drawn in my favor on the very after- 
noon before this blood-stained crime was committed ! He wanted 
his money back, and wanted me out of the way." 

" Do you wish to kill me, sir, with your cruel language? O for- 
bear! forbear! " pleaded the wretched girl, wringing her hands in the 
most poignant agony. "Even if father be guilty, as you say, you 
will be generous. You cannot, you will'not, pursue this old man to 
the grave ! " 

"No, I will not," returned the lawyer, having brought his victim 
to the point he desired. " Although the evidence is conclusive, and 
any day — even now — I have the power to execute my just vengeance 
against this man, I will not do it, and farther than this, the dreadful 
secret shall perish with yourself and me, provided, my dear Miss 
Norman, you agree to a certain stipulation ! " 

At this point when the words of his last sentence fell on Julia's 
ears, a new horror — she could not tell what — seemed to inundate her 
mind like the waves of a black sea! Without comprehending 
his full meaning, she felt that he had reserved to the last moment, 
some fearful announcement, which, if its terms were carried out, 
would cut off all hope, and make her life a scene of perpetual agony ! 
What in heaven's name, could he mean ? She did not wait long in 
suspense. 

"The stipulation to which I refer, my dear Miss Norman, is very 
simple, and easily carried out. Your father is safe at my hands, and 
will remain in safety to the end of life, if you will agree to my propo- 
sition. My friendship for you — and I may say a stronger feeling 
than this — has induced me to hold back the hand of retributive 
justice ; and if you will consent to unite your destiny with mine, your 
father will be assured against all possible peril, and I will try to make 
you happy." 

The poor girl did not faint, nor shriek out in her amazement and 
humiliation. She left her chair, her eyes blazing with infinite scorn, 
and walked to the door. Finding it locked, she turned back on the 
villain with a proud and haughty gesture which made him wither 
into insignificance. 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 219 

" You shall not keep me a prisoner here," she spoke as a queen 
would have spoken, " to bear these insults longer. I am not a bird 
to be caged, but a woman to be respected. You have proved your- 
self both a coward and a monster, gloating over the calamities of a 
helpless girl. Your infamous proposition is still ringing in my ears ; 
but I say to you now, as I would say a week or a year hence, that, 
monster as you are, and profoundly as I hate you for this cowardly 
triumph over a bleeding heart, to save my father from a public trial 
and a shameful execution, I would dare to do what your black stipu- 
lation demands. But, sir, before I make this sacrifice of myself to 
save him, I must know beyond all doubt or question, that he is not 
only guilty, but that you have ample means at command to convict 
him of this crime. How do I know but this awful charge of guilt 
made by you, is a mere fabrication, gotten up for the base purpose of 
betraying me into your hands ? And even if you believe, in all 
sincerity, that the voice you heard was my father's, you are liable to 
be deceived. And even if you are not deceived, would your simple 
testimony, unsupported by other witnesses, convict General Norman 
of this great wickedness ? Besides, what motive could he have had 
in wanting to take your life ? Up to this time, it has never been 
whispered in mortal ear, that my father has ever been suspected of 
committing deeds for which his daughter would blush." 

In this strain Julia would have gone on in triumph to the end ; 
but as she was proceeding with marvelous skillfulness to analyze the 
difficult features of the case — astonishing the lawyer by her remark- 
able shrewdness — the sudden recollection of what had occurred in the 
library on that fatal morning, rushed on her mind with the force of 
a tempest. Those bank bills, and that note of hand, and, above all, 
those stains as of blood, stopped the flow of her imperious lan- 
guage, and humbled her into the dust. Murdock, who was watch- 
ing her closely, noted the rapid change which came over her, and 
although he knew not the cause, he looked on it as a flattering 
augury of success. 

"Miss Norman," said he, taking advantage of the present crisis 
in the contest, " you need not hope to save your father by the use 
of sophisms and indignant denials. You feel yourself that he is 
guilty, in spite of all your efforts to conceal it. The evidence against 
him does not depend on me alone. There is another witness who 
will be brought into court, whose testimony, though circumstantial, 
will be as conclusive as mine. Mark me, Miss Norman, there is no 



220 THE- TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

escape from this evidence. It would convict the highest and proud- 
est man in the land. The alternative is now presented to you. I 
await your decision." 

Julia imagined that the other witness, to whom he falsely referred 
merely for effect, was herself; yet she could not tell how it was 
possible for him to know anything about the circumstances which 
took place in the library. If he knew this, then indeed her cause was 
lost, and General Norman would be condemned on the evidence of 
his own daughter. Confused and hopeless as she was, she was con- 
vinced that nothing now was left to be done but to temporize with 
the villain, and make the best terms in her power. 

" Mr. Murdock," said she, assuming all the deliberation she could 
summon, and speaking with slow and distinct utterance, "perhaps 
you know I design to start to-morrow on a journey to the West, to 
remain there a few weeks. Let this, then, be the understanding 
between us : If, on my return, it shall be made certain that the future 
safety and honor of my father can be secured only by my acceptance 
of your proposition, hard as it is, and revolting as you know it to be 
to my whole nature, I will do as you require. Is this our compact, 
sir ? And if so, please signify your assent, and then give me my 
liberty." 

"It shall be as you ask, Miss Norman. I shall not disturb you 
with any indecent haste. Pardon me for my apparent rudeness. I 
trust you will have a happy and prosperous journey. Farewell till 
we meet again." 

While he was speaking, he unlocked the door, and his prisoner, in 
a tumult of bitter emotions, passed out to the street. 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 221 



CHAPTER X. 

Bright and early next day, Julia bade farewell to her mother and 
friends, and, in company with her cousin, Mr. Clayton, started on 
her contemplated journey. A fine carriage, with every convenience 
attached, drawn by two disciplined horses under the management of 
Uncle Ned, a faithful family servant, was their mode of transit. The 
weather was delightful, and the journey over the Allegheny moun- 
tains was full of scenic fascination. If recent events had not been 
so intensely gloomy, this trip would have given her indescribable 
enjoyment. As it was, the geniality of her cousin, and the wondrous 
beauties of nature on which she was gazing, often lifted her, for 
awhile at least, from the dead level of her heart's misery, to a feeling 
of absolute pleasure. By easy stages from day to day, they finally 
reached Wheeling, where they remained for a brief period, visiting 
relatives in that portion of the State. 

At Wheeling, she heard of her father for the first time in more 
than a month. He had tarried several weeks in that city, and dur- 
ing this time he was in a thoughtful and reserved mood, very differ- 
ent from his ordinary bearing toward his relatives and friends. All 
at once, without going through the formalities of a farewell scene, 
he suddenly disappeared with his servant, two days before the arri- 
val of Julia, and no one could tell whither he was gone. Some 
of his friends supposed he had gone home ; but it was rumored, 
on the other hand, that he had been seen, with his servant and 
horses, crossing the river Ohio in a ferry boat, on his way to some 
point in the State of that name. Her father had never before 
deported himself in this extraordinary manner ; and when she 
learned, in addition, that his stay at Wheeling had been character- 
ized by frequent excesses in drinking, she was grieved profoundly. 

After staying the allotted time in Western Virginia, Julia and her 



222 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

friend crossed the river, and proceeded on their way to Circleville. 
Having reached this city — a mere village then, of peculiar appear- 
ance — it was Julia's first care to hunt up her old school friend, Lucy 
Carrington. This she accomplished without much difficulty, and the 
manifest cordiality with which Lucy greeted her, proved that her old 
affection for her room-mate at school, was still unabated. After a 
series of explanations had been exchanged, Lucy remarked : 

"It is very surprising indeed that the many letters I addressed to 
you were not received ; and it is equally surprising that during the 
past month, no line of yours has ever reached me. I cannot account 
for it. One letter may miss without exciting wonder ; but this sys- 
tematic withholding of every letter you and I have written to each 
other for^'more than a month, is suspicious — more than this, some 
one has, for his own base purposes, intercepted our correspondence. 
I have no idea who the person is, that has committed this cruel, or 
wanton act. Have you, Julia?" 

"I have not," replied Julia, whose mind was wandering over the 
past unconsciously. " I cannot see what conceivable object any 
one could have in doing this. My father, as you know from letters 
I wrote to you long ago in confidence, was very much opposed to my 
marriage with Leroy Belgrave ; and as this gentleman has recently 
been stopping here, the thought came to me that my father, knowing 
this, has been preventing any interchange of letters between myself 
and all my friends in this place. But I am sure, Lucy, this hasty 
suspicion does great injustice to him, for however much he may be 
opposed to my union with Mr. Belgrave, he could never stoop to 
such a wicked deed as this. Dismissing these annoying thoughts for 
the present, let me ask you, Lucy, if you became acquainted with 
Mr. Belgrave, during his recent stay in Circleville?" 

" I did not," answered the other, coloring slightly at a name so 
familiar. "The only person of this name with whom I am acquainted 
in this place, is William Belgrave, who has been a business resident 
of Circleville for several years. You will remember I alluded to this 
gentleman in my letter to you, and spoke of the strange coincidence 
involved in the fact that you and I, being old schoolmates and 
intimates also, should be addressed respectively by cousins having 
the same family name, and living hundreds of miles from each other. 
Sometime before William started on a visit home, to remain there 
during the present month, he became quite intimate with a young 
lawyer from Richmond, named Clifford, who came out west, as he 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 223 

said, to improve his health by travel, and see the country. Though 
I met him briefly but two or three times, I must confess to you in 
confidence, that though he was handsome and fascinating in his 
address, even resembling William in his personal appearance, I 
took a strange dislike to him, believing that his association with 
William would end in harm. And when I learned he had accom- 
panied William on his visit, a thousand vague fears disturbed my 
mind. I have more to say on this subject hereafter, but as I hear the 
voices of my father and Mr. Clayton in the hall, coming this way, we 
must wait for a better opportunity to discuss these matters." 

Through the earnest request of Mr. Carrington, supported by his 
wife, daughter, and invalid son, who was now recovering, Julia and 
her cousin were established as the guests of the family. In the 
course of the two succeeding days to which the stay of Julia was 
limited, the two young ladies had ample leisure and^convenience to 
converse freely. The result of these interviews was a determination 
on the part of Julia to follow her father, suspecting that he and 
Leroy — the latter probably under the assumed name of Clifford — had 
gone over to the village near the residence of Mr. Belgrave, to plot 
mischief against William. Her suspicion in regard to the identity 
existing between Leroy and Clifford, arose from two or three consid- 
erations: First, she knew he had been sojourning for a time in 
Circle ville, which, as before intimated, was but a small place forty 
years ago ; if, therefore, he had been stopping under his own name 
— being a near relative, also, of a gentleman residing there, who 
himself was the affianced husband of Lucy — the fact would have 
been notorious. Second, his remarkable resemblance to William, 
and his departure with him, made the proof stronger that Julia's sus- 
picions were well founded; and add to this the fact, as she had often 
heard it from Leroy's lips, the maiden name of his mother was Clif- 
ford, the inference was almost irresistible that Leroy and Clifford 
were one and the same person. 

From the moment that Julia reached this painful inference, she was 
in haste to get away. Except in reference to her father's guilt, on 
which subject she was ever silent, Julia had no concealments from 
Lucy. In fact, their confidences were of reciprocal importance to 
each other, and they mutually acknowledged the necessity of the 
utmost freedom in their disclosures. Nothing was kept back which 
could tend to enlighten the situation. They both believed that the 
exciting drama in which they and their lovers were principal actors, 



224 The transmitted cUrsE. 

would, for weal or woe, reach its culminating point in a few days ; 
and they believed, too, that their presence at the Belgrave party, 
would materially serve the interest of persons very dear to them. 
Lucy's dream, which was reported in a letter to William, had a start- 
ling effect on Julia, from the verbal description with which she was 
favored, she recognized as central figures in the dream, Leroy Bel- 
grave and her own father ; and to increase the effect on her mind, 
and on that of Lucy, also, the latter described a second dream she 
had experienced, which was painfully coincident with the first in its 
general features, and even in its minor details. Evidently there was 
a Providence in all this which it would be wicked to ignore. The 
anxiety of Lucy to attend the party was manifest, and on consulta- 
tion, as Walter would not be able to go, it was arranged that she 
should have a seat in the carriage with Julia. This arrangement 
having been perfected, it was agreed that they should start next day. 

During the afternoon of the day in which this agreement was made, 
Mr. Clayton, Lucy and Julia, took a stroll down by the river. At that 
time, a narrow float bridge, instead of the present elegant structure, 
spanned the Scioto at Circleville. The strolling party were in the 
vicinity of the bridge, looking out on the beautiful river, and over its 
banks, which were ornamented with leafy and stately sycamores, when 
a sudden exclamation which sounded like a suppressed oath, mingled 
with the crash of a horses's feet against the timbers of the bridge, 
attracted their attention. On turning round, they saw a man of 
short and stocky figure, standing on the frail structure, at the head of 
his horse, trying by main strength to restrain the frightened animal 
from leaping over into the river, and carrying his owner with him in 
his mad career. He was a stranger whom Lucy had never seen 
before ; and if there was any recognition of him by Clayton, no sign 
nor word gave token of the fact. But Julia was thrown into unspeak- 
able agitation, when, in the short form and Jewish physiognomy of 
the stranger, she beheld the confidential agent of her father, Samuel 
Murdock, Esq. ! 

"Why, cousin, what's the matter with you?" asked Clayton, 
alarmed at her manifest excitement. " Are you afraid that the man 
will be thrown into the river and drowned?" 

"No, no — yes, I mean," she replied confusedly, placing her hand 
nervously on the arm of her companion. " I am seized with a sud- 
den sickness. Please, let us go back at once." 

If Clayton and Lucy suspected the real feeling of their friend, 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 225 

they kept it to themselves. As they ascended the hill on their way 
from the river, Julia did not look back, but kept her eyes fixed 
sternly in the opposite direction. Clayton, however, looked back 
from the summit of the hill, and saw the stranger safe on the other 
side of the bridge, standing by his horse, and gazing back at the 
receding party with a long stare of apparent curiosity. 

As Clayton and his companions passed up street, they noticed a 
fine carriage, containing a gentleman and two ladies, with a colored 
driver in front, moving up to the only hotel of note with which Cir- 
cleville was at that time honored. The gentleman — somewhat 
advanced in years and infirm — alighted on the steps, and one of the 
ladies — his wife, perhaps — with him. Just at this moment, a runa- 
way team, with an empty and noisy wagon appended, came flying 
along the street with fearful speed. Excitements, like small-pox, are 
contagious ; and the horses attached to the carriage, frightened by 
the whirl and thunder of this runaway scene, became unmanage- 
able. The negro driver, muscular as he was, could not hold them, 
and they were off like the sweep of a tornado ! On they dashed, and 
were about to pass our little party, defying all control, when Clayton, 
who was brave, strong, and chivalrous, leaving his companions in a 
place of security, rushed at the risk of his own life to the side of the 
speeding animals, and took the near one by the bridle. For a 
hundred yards or more, he held on with desperate energy, his feet 
touching the earth only at intervals. At length the speed of the 
horses was checked, so much so that the driver, watching his oppor- 
tunity, leaped to the ground, and ran to the side of the off animal. 
Uniting his efforts with those of Clayton, the runaways soon came to 
a dead stop ; and the young man, leaving the horses to care of the 
driver, went quickly to look after its solitary inmate. 

"Why, Mr. Clayton, is that you ? Let me get out; I have been so 
terribly frightened ! " 

" Miss Clara Belgrave, as I am alive ! " exclaimed Clayton, assist- 
ing the lady to leave the vehicle, after which he escorted her to the 
hotel, where in a short time she had a happy meeting with her friend 
Julia, and an introduction to Miss Carrington, both of whom had 
been terrified beyond measure at the scene they had witnessed. 

It was indeed Clara Belgrave, the sister of Leroy, whose life had 
thus been saved. Mr. and Mrs. Spencer, her travelling companions, 
with whom in Virginia she had been making her home since the 
15 



226 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

death of her parents, .were on a trip to Hillsboro, Ohio, where some 
of their relatives resided. As this journey would take them almost 
by the door of her Uncle, the father of William and Charles, she 
accepted this favorable opportunity to visit him and his family, hop- 
ing that in the course of her travels, she Would either see her brother, 
or hear something of a definite character, in regard to his mysterious 
movements. She was overjoyed to learn that Lucy and her cousin 
Julia, would leave next day for the same destination to which she was 
bound. We now leave threse friends for a time, and return to other 
characters from whom we have been absent too long. Before doing 
so, however, we must not omit to mention two facts, one of which is, 
that Clara Belgrave was very handsome, very wealthy, and young, 
and the other was her gratitude to Edward Clayton, for periling his 
life to save hers. This was sincere and demonstrative, showing that 
she was a girl of quick sensibilities, and ardent sympathies. 

When the supposed murder of Murdock was discovered, an editor, 
with the characteristic thirst of his profession for news, was among 
the first in the great throng to reach the office. From the deathly 
appearance of the victim, he took it for granted that the lawyer was 
stone dead ; and full of this satisfactory impression — for he loved a 
harrowing and blood-curdling item, as all editors do — he ran to his 
office, and stopped the press to announce under the terrific caption 
of "Awful and Mysterious Murder!" the occurrence, which, in his 
opinion, had taken place. The paragraph he published went the 
rounds ; and in those days ante-dating the telegraph, it required 
weeks, and sometimes months, to correct a blunder, which had been 
fairly started into circulation. 

If anyone had been cafefully watching the actions of General Nor- 
man at Wheeling, it would have been noticed that the ill-starred 
man habitually dreaded the presence of a newspaper. If one were 
offered him, he would reject it with a jesture either of fear or con- 
tempt ; and if he overheard a person reading, he made it a point to 
be absent as quickly as possible. With him, as it is with a great 
many others, suspense was preferred to a full knowledge of the worst 
that might happen. One day, while in a room by himself, sitting at 
a table whereon a paper was lying, his eyes suddenly fell, by the 
merest accident, on the following sensational heading: "Awful and 
Mysterious Murder at Leesburg!" Being alone, and free from 
intrusion, he was determined now to know the worst. If suspicion 
had fallen on him, he ought to know it, so as to guard against con- 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 227 

sequences. He had just taken a heavy draught of his favorite 
beverage, brandy and water, and was fortified for the occasion. 
Taking up the paper, which was the one published at Wheeling, he 
read the following paragraph, which was copied from the Leesburg 
journal: 

" We stop the press to announce to our readers the terrible fact 
that, early this morning, Samuel Murdock, an eminent lawyer of this 
place, was found dead in his bed, and covered with blood, which 
flowed from several ghastly wounds in his head ! We have but time 
to say, that deceased was about forty years of age, and unmarried, 
having resided in this city for many years. No suspicion, as yet, 
has been expressed in regard to the perpetrator of this horrible deed 
of assassination." 

It must be admitted that the General's hand trembled while he 
read these dark sentences ; but at the conclusion a grim smile of 
triumph flashed over his features, and if his thoughts could be crys- 
talized into language, they would read briefly as follows : 

" Well, he is out of the way, beyond all dispute, and no one is 
suspected. The dark suspense is over, and I shall breathe more 
freely. Why should I be afraid of a shadow ? I now have the 
benefit of his scheming head alone, and am rid of his importunities 
for money for ever! My next move will be to join Leroy, and 
secure the hundred thousand dollar prize." 

On the following day, he disappeared strangely from Wheeling, and 
proceeded, after stopping a few days at Bainbridge, to the village of 

M , near the residence of Mr. Belgrave, leaving his servant a 

few miles back in the country, and instructing him to join his 
master early next day. 

We have already reported the memorable interview between Clif- 
ford and Norman, which took place in an upper room of the village 
tavern, with Charles Belgrave as a concealed listener ; but we have 
not yet reported another thrilling scene which occurred at the same 
house, later in the night. It was, perhaps, two o' clock in the morn- 
ing, when the landlord — or rather the landlord's wife, who had 
quicker ears than her husband — was awakened by a resonant 
" Halloo," coming from some traveller desiring admission. Gen- 
eral Norman, also, was brought with a jerk out of his repose. He 
started out of bed as though he had been pursued by a legion of 
sheeted ghosts, fresh from the village graveyard. Trembling from 
head to foot, he stood in the middle of the room, waiting for a repe- 



228 THE TRANSMITTED CtJRSE. 

tition of that outside call which had so terrified him. It came, and 
was repeated again and again, until the landlord was thoroughly 
roused, and was on his way to give needed attention to the stranger. 

Alarmed as General Norman was by the familiarity of that voice, 
he still had presence of mind enough to step out of his room to the 
same front window through which Charles had seen Clifford, a few 
hours before. And there, from that post of observation, aided as he 
was by the streaming moonlight, he saw a sight which froze the 
blood in his veins. For he beheld, dismounting from a horse in 
most lifelike manner, the very man whom he had slain, and whom 
the papers had reported dead as the first Adam and his son Abel — 
Samuel Murdock, attorney - at - law and late confidential agent. The 
General turned away with a groan of muffled horror, and staggered 
back to his own apartment and to his bed, struck down by the 
mightiest blow which had ever fallen on his destiny ! 

" Can the dead come to life ? " he gasped in helpless misery, as he 
lay prone on the bed. " Can the grave give back its inhabitants ? 
Can shapes not of earth thus visit us, clothed with seeming flesh 
and blood, and invested with the elements of life ? What horrible 
vision is this , with which my senses are assailed ? I can not, I will 
not believe it ! It is all unreal — a wretched phantom, conjured up 
by my sickly brain ! I must have some brandy ! " 

Unknown to Clifford, or any one else, Norman had stowed away 
a supply of liquor in his room ; and to this sovereign elixir, as to a 
present salvation from fright and danger, he instantly repaired, as 
soon as his limbs would support him ; and the gurgling fluid went 
down his throat like water rushing through an aqueduct. Imme- 
diately there was a transfusion of hope and energy through his 
veins. He felt better — decidedly better. He was convinced now 
that he had been deceived by a midnight vagary. The dead could 
not rise till the coming resurrection. Murdock was still sleeping 
quietly in his bloody grave, and the man who had been mistaken 
for him, was a stranger who had never heard of the lawyer, nor of 
his story. With these consoling reflections, the General again 
courted sleep ; but in vain. Again he tried the good offices of 
brandy ; but failing to find the relief he sought, he dressed himself 
at the earliest glimmer of dawn, went softly down stairs, called up 
the landlord, and ordered him to bring out his horse. The command 
was obeyed, and the General, after telling the host to instruct his 
servant when he came, to meet him at the county seat, departed 
without asking a question in reference to the mysterious guest. 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 229 

Nearly half a century ago, Miller's Tavern, on High Street, was 
the prominent public house in Hillsboro, where weary pilgrims 
found repose. To this house General Norman rode up, very early one 
July morning, in 1834. He had not breakfasted, and his cheeks 
were burning with an unnatural fever. Having partaken of a slight 
meal, for which he had but little inclination, he was conducted to 
the chamber allotted to him at the head of the stairs, and again 
addressed himself to sleep. This time he was successful ; more, 
however, from the effects of the liquor he had imbibed, than from 
any healthy tendency in his system. It was noon when he awoke, 
consumed with fever and thirst. He went down to the bar, steamed 
up on his beverage, ate dinner, and tried to feel consciously happy. 
It was no use ; his thirst returned with ten -fold power, and again 
and again he indulged his merciless appetite. The dishes at the sup- 
per table passed before his erratic vision as though instinct with life. 
He had. never been so intoxicated before. In fact he was ashamed 
of himself, thinking truly every one about him saw and knew his in- 
glorious condition. 

He went to bed early, and courted the gracious influence of sleep. 
Near midnight, after having twice visited the bar for his wonted 
stimulant, he went off into a brief and heavy slumber. When he 
awoke, the voice of some person in the room adjoining his, started 
his previous terrors into full and appalling activity. Listening with 
profound and awful attention, he heard a sentence which seemed to 
penetrate the wall like a flame of fire. It was this : 

" General Norman, the murdered dead do come to life to haunt 
their assassins — evermore — evermore ! " 

This time it appeared beyond dispute, that the disquieted spirit of 
the lawyer had come out from its home in Hades, to pursue the 
murderer around the world, following him with a ghastly and impal- 
pable presence through every avenue of life, and goading him 
onward to that final leap in the dark, which every impenitent and 
unpardoned criminal must take, as the last fearful act in his personal 
drama ! Crazed with liquor, and rendered doubly insane by what 
he had heard, the General sprang to the floor, threw on his clothes 
instinctively, hastened down stairs, and, finding the front door 
unlocked and ajar — for it was a sultry night in July — rushed 
out into the street like a maniac ! What happened to him for the 
next two hours he never knew. In a tragic and demented mood, he 
wandered aimlessly about the town, through street and alley, until 



230 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

the cooler breath of morning, and the dying away of his stimulants 
brought back his disordered senses. He sought the hotel, and hav- 
ing found it, confiscated, by the help of early day, a bottle of 
brandy from the bar; after which, and after taking an "eye opener," 
which would have been death to a novitiate in dissipation, he went 
up to bed, and was disturbed no more until the breakfast call. 

The scenes of this day were very much like those of the day 
preceding. They were characterized by continuous drinking on the 
part of General Norman ; and on account of his superior appear- 
ance, and his apparently plethoric pockets, his excesses were not 
only tolerated, but encouraged by the landlord and the guests. 
Several times during the day, Norman glanced furtively about, 
fearful of seeing the specter in the broad light, or of hearing the 
dreaded monotone of his voice. Seeing nothing, and hearing noth- 
ing to discompose his nerves, he became moderately cheerful, and 
even hilarious. He was too proud, or too anxious to remain in sus- 
pense, to make any inquiries which might tend to explain the inci- 
dent which had so unsettled him ; and no one present volunteered 
the slightest explanation. When night came on, his old appre- 
hensions began to return. He was naturally brave ; but, like Rich- 
ard of England, of whom the dramatist speaks, the presence of a 
supernatural being made his hair bristle with terror, and his nerves 
tingle through his entire being. But brandy was his grand panacea, 
and he kept dosing himself with it until, at a late hour, he was sup- 
ported helplessly to bed. Toward morning, he awoke from his 
feverish lethargy, free from the more violent effects of intoxication, 
but in a state of exquisite nervousness. His hearing was painfully 
sensitive. While tossing from side to side, and groaning in very 
agony, he caught the sound of the preternatural voice in the next 
room, and a moment afterward, the sentence that had so thrilled him 
the night before, seemed to fill his room with its ominous echoes : 

" General Norman, the murdered do come to life to haunt their 



assassins — evermore — evermore 



General Norman had reached a point beyond which was hopeless 
insanity. He was a man of intelligence, and he knew this to be the 
case. He was determined, therefore, to know the worst, or be 
hurled to ruin in seeking this knowledge. Rising above his fears, 
which had thus far kept him in abeyance, smiting him with a con- 
viction of his own impotence, he threw the energy of a lifetime into 
one grand resolve, and its grander execution. Deliberately but 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 231 

quickly dressing himself, and taking the key of his own door and a 
light with him, he silently passed to the haunted chamber, inserted 
the key in the lock, which it chanced to fit, and in a moment was 
standing in the middle of the apartment. 

There, on the side of the bed, as the flame of the candle revealed 
him, sat in a most unghostly posture, the spirit — if spirit it was — of 
the late Samuel Murdock, dressed in simple underclothing, looking 
toward the intruder with a stare of abject alarm, One glance was 
sufficient to prove to General Norman that this being who sat before 
him in the midst of his conscious apprehensions was not a visitant 
from Hades, but a wretched conglomeration of flesh and blood, 
whose eyes the crows and vultures ought to have picked out years 
and years before. Swelling with his tremendous wrath at being 
made the dupe of an imposition so gross, the General was about to 
seize the offender, and offer him as a sacrifice to the gods, when the 
lawyer sank to his knees, and pleaded for his life. He was merely 
gaining time by this artifice, well knowing that when this storm of 
anger passed away, and his life was safe for the present, he could 
then bring his old patron under his control by the revelations he 
designed to make. Desisting from all attempts at violence, for fear of 
alarming the house, General Norman began the wordy war which is 
here described : 

"What is the meaning of this scheme of graveyard villainy?" 
asked he in a tone of suppressed rage, anxious, however, not to dis- 
turb the inmates of the house. " What do you mean by this infernal 
masquerade ? Are you a stage actor, trying to represent the ghost 
of Hamlet ? But I tell you, sir, that these fantastic theatricals will 
not answer your purpose, whatever that purpose may be. If the pa- 
pers pronounce you dead and out of the way of better men, is that 
any reason why you should pursue me with this system of ghostly 
hypocrisy ? Does this silly artifice mean to extort more money from 
me?" 

" No, sir, it does not," replied Murdock, getting up from his knees, 
but still preserving his cringing demeanor. " Poor as I am, I do not 
want your money. If you promise to do me no violence, I will make 
a full explanation. You and I are competent to settle our difficulties 
without coming to blows." 

" Well, I promise for the present, and you may proceed," respond- 
ed the General, placing the light on the stand, and taking a 
seat. " But mark you, sir, I am neither a child nor a toy to be 



232 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

played with. You will now explain how it is that the newspapers 
have been lying about you, and why it is you have singled me out in 
preference to all other men, as the victim of your midnight imposi- 
tions ?" 

" I am not answerable, General, for the falsities of newspaper ar- 
ticles," said the lawyer, gathering courage and assurance as he went 
on. " If the Leesburg paper pronounced me dead, and other jour- 
nals copied the paragraph, while I was still a living but mutilated 
man, it was their fault, and not mine. They published what they 
conceived to be true at the time. But this is not the point to which I 
wish to come. Now, General, while you remember your promise to 
do me no violence on this occasion, permit me to say, if you please, 
that the words spoken by the murderer — person, I mean — while in the 
act, as he thought, of taking my life, proved his identity beyond all 
cavil or dispute. I had been too long in his service to mistake his 
voice for that of any other man in the world. Pray, hear me out, 
and you will better understand the situation. I am able to prove 
that the hatchet with which the deed was done, was the property of — 
of — the defendant ; and besides this, there is a second living witness 
to prove that said defendant was seen going from my office at, or 
about the time, of this attempted murder. Evidence could not be 
stronger than this ; in fact, it is impregnable. Yet with all this tes- 
timony, which would convict the president himself, if he were placed 
in like circumstances, I have generously spared that man's reputa- 
tion and liberty, rather than bring him to a shameful and fatal trial, 
and to ignominious punishment ! For more than a month, I have 
kept this dreadful secret out of the courts, and purpose to do so for 
all time to come." 

" You imagine you have trumped up a very strong case," observed 
the other, affecting a composure he did not feel, for he was awfully 
startled at this revelation of his guilt. " But there is one thing you 
have failed to comprehend. The position of General Norman is such 
that you — an obscure lawyer without money or backing — would find 
it exceedingly difficult to convict him on a charge like this. You will 
hardly find any man in Virginia, fool enough to believe that I could 
be induced, under any circumstances whatever, to degrade myself by 
a little piece of private assassination. What earthly motive could 
there be for such an act ? Talking of motives, however, I would be 
pleased to know — and my question is intended to be respectful — the 
precise motive which prompted you, if you believe me guilty, to ex- 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 233 

hibit such extraordinary forbearance toward the assassin ? You must 
either believe your charge is groundless, or you are seeking for some- 
thing at my hand. It is the old system of " hush money" over again. 
Shylock must have his pound of flesh." 

Here the lawyer would have improvised a pun, if his position had 
justified it. He was indeed seeking several — perhaps more than a 
hundred — pounds of flesh and blood, in the person of that radiant 
incarnation, Julia Norman ; but he was not yet ready to present his 
ultimatum. He answered as follows : 

" I tell you, General, you are mistaken. I told you awhile since, 
I do not want your money. But there are other things I do want, 
which you are able to grant. First, I want back that money and 
that note, amounting to five thousand dollars, which were taken from 
me when I was insensible. Second, as I have her own voluntary 
consent, I want you to give me the hand of your daughter in mar- 
riage." 

"What! you have her consent?" exclaimed the General, springing 
to his feet in astonishment. " Do you suppose I believe this stupid 
fabrication?" 

" It is true — I swear it ! " returned Murdock solemnly. " If it were 
a falsehood, it were a stupid one indeed, for in a very few days it 
could be proved to be false to my shame. In my office at Leesburg, 
a brief time since, she declared most positively she would be mine ; 
and I ask you now to ratify the mutual pledges then made." 

"Ah ! I understand it now," said the General in dismay, dropping 
in his chair. " The whole conspiracy is now open and palpable. 
You have made the poor child believe her father to be guilty of this 
half-way assassination ; and you have made her believe, too, that 
my salvation from a shameful trial and a more shameful punish- 
ment, is contingent on her acceptance of your hand. With this 
terrible conviction, Julia has foresworn her love for Leroy, and she 
has done this unnatural thing, not because she loves you, but because 
she loves me — her worthless father — with an intensity which will 
endure even this horrible sacrifice of her heart's love, and her life's 
happiness. O, my poor girl ! my poor girl !" 

"You are again mistaken, my dear General," said the lying 
attorney, a little confused at this sudden disclosure of his whole plan. 
"What I have said is true. I have her voluntary consent; but per- 
mit me to add, if you reverse this engagement through parental 
authority, what consideration then ought to restrain me from carrying 



234 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

the prosecution of this case of attempted homicide, together withal 
prosecution for the recovery of stolen property, before the proper 
tribunal of justice ?" 

"Stop, sir — not a word more!" interposed the General. "I 
understand perfectly the peculiarities of the situation. You mean 
that either myself, or my daughter, shall become your victim. Which 
shall it be ? I admit the strength of your position, provided your 
declarations are true, and not false, as they appear to me. Meet me 
at ten o'clock this morning in my room, No. 5 ; and then we may 
perfect some form of negotiation. Quit your ghostly business with 
me at once and forever. Day is breaking, and I must retire to my 
chamber." 

There was much exultation in the thoughts of the lawyer, when 
left alone to his own communings. The prize now seemed almost 
within his grasp ; but no one, except the man himself, could have 
revealed the thoughts of General Norman. All that could have been 
said about him in that hour in which his destiny seemed to culminate, 
was that he was intensely unhappy ; but of the resources which he 
might yet bring to bear against his resuscitated enemy, driving him 
from the field in utter rout and ruin, no one could speak definitely. 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 235 



CHAPTER XL 

General Norman went down to his breakfast much less intoxicated 
than usual. This happy change resulted, not so much from the fact 
that he had imbibed less liquor, as from the fact that he had 
approached a stupendous crisis in his experience. This sobered 
him ; and after the meal had been taken, with the ghost of the 
lamented Murdock sitting gracefully on the other side of the table, 
devouring his breakfast with life-like relish, the General went back 
to indulge in reflections. It lacked but two hours of the appointed 
time for the conference, and he must hasten to a decision. His 
thoughts which were developed by subsequent events, may be trans- 
lated as follows : 

" Clearly, under existing circumstances, there are but three courses 
open for my adoption, and each one is attended with supreme diffi- 
culty. The first is, to throw myself back on my dignity and assumed 
innocence of the crime with which I am charged, and invite the 
scoundrel to institute judicial proceedings as soon as he pleases. 
By taking this course, I would keep faith with Leroy and my poor 
daughter. Besides, it would be more in keeping with my own proud 
character; but I cannot afford to do this, because I cannot afford to 
be arraigned as a common malefactor, tried, convicted, and publicly 
sentenced to undergo a disgraceful punishment. I must, therefore, 
reject this course. What next? The second plan is to submit, in 
all frankness and sincerity, to the terms of Murdock's hard proposi- 
tion, and join him in a faithful effort to see these terms executed, no 
matter how much injustice may be done to Leroy and my darling 
daughter. If I adopt this course, all the money and property taken 
from Murdock, must be restored; and besides this, the various sums 
of money lavished on Leroy to assist him in unseating his cousin, 
will be lost beyond redemption, and the little scheme on foot to 



236 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

secure a vast estate, must be abandoned just at the moment of assured 
victory!" 

Here the General groaned in very bitterness of spirit. The grand 
castle which he had been building in the air, was toppling over into 
indiscriminate ruins. Surely there was no hope in the second plan, 
for it involved an absolute confession of guilt. He could not think 
of doing this, and his thoughts on this point will be reproduced in his 
own language, thus : 

"My third and last course is, to submit, in seeming only, to his 
infamous proposition, making him believe it is accepted in good faith, 
and assisting him in appearance to carry it out. There is hope here, 
and the only hope which has presented itself. This course will bring 
into play all my arts of dissimulation, and I am equal to the task 
imposed. While he believes I am working with him and for him, I 
shall be waiting and watching for a favorable opportunity to crush 
him with an unexpected blow; and at the same time, I shall be doing 
all in my power to bring the conspiracy against William, to a glorious 
issue ! Eureka ! This is my plan at last ; and now I shall go down 
to the bar, to prepare myself for a proper reception of my dear son- 
in-law, the excellent Mr. Murdock!" 

It is not our purpose to describe the important conversation which 
took place, a little while after, between the two worthies. It could 
not be supposed that any real reconciliation of feeling or interest, 
was effected between two men, who had been thrown so widely 
asunder. But a compromise, either genuine or fictitious, has been 
made, and may be made again, between hostile and malignant 
devils! Suffice it to say on this point, that when the conference 
ended, General Norman and Samuel Murdock descended the stairs, 
arm in arm, and having proceeded to the bar, drank each other's 
health in brimming bumpers. 

" Dear General," observed the lawyer obsequiously, " Here's to 
your health, long life, and abundant happiness. May your shadow 
never grow less, and may your children — I beg pardon General — may 
your child, and your child's children rise up and call you blessed." 

" Here's to your health also, my dear Murdock," replied the Gen- 
eral with his most insinuating address. " As no one is here to take 
notes, permit me to extemporize a pun as follows : May the gentle- 
man who this day has given up the ghost, and is yet alive, never 
have occasion to put on another shroud until the coroner is ready for 
the inquest ! No offense I hope, Mr. Murdock." 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 237 

11 None in the least, General, ha, ha, ha! " laughed the rollicking 
lawyer. " You have perfect liberty to pun whenever you please." 

It was thus that these men indulged their mutual fancies and con- 
ceits ; but if their hearts could have been laid bare to the gaze of 
mortals and angels, it would have been seen, that instead of feeling 
the reciprocal good will which they expressed, they hated each other 
with the bitterest and darkest animosity. 

Julius Caesar, the servant of General Norman, had joined his mas- 
ter the day before ; and during the evening of the day in which this 
incongruous treaty was brought about between Norman and his old 
confidential agent, these gentlemen, with Julius as an appendage, 
left for the vllage of M , badly disguised in liquor. 

It must not be supposed that General Norman and his quondam 
agent, had ever been recognized as confirmed drunkards. This was 
not the case. The public conscience in regard to the use of stimu- 
lating drinks, was not, by any means, so sensitive as it is now ; and 
the great temperance revolution, projected by the Washingtonians, 
belonged still to the future. General Norman had prided himself on 
his moderation ; but the past few weeks had produced a decided 
change for the worse. In trying to seek oblivion from the memory 
of his folly and murdererous rashness, he had rushed down the drunk- 
ard's precipice with disastrous rapidity ; and during the past day, he 
had exerted a mischievous influence over the lawyer, keeping that 
individual in a state of mellowness all the while. 

It was ten o'clock on the evening in which they started from 
Hillsboro, that these two men drew rein in front of Dick Martin's 
saloon. They were both exceedingly dry, having traveled ten miles 
without recuperating their feverish frames with intoxicating drinks. 
As it was but a little distance from the saloon to the tavern, the Gen- 
eral and his associate dismounted, giving their horses into the care 
of Julius Caesar, who was instructed to proceed to the tavern, and 
make all ready for their coming. It happened, for a wonder, there 
was no one in the saloon but Martin himself, who was more than 
usually under the influence of whiskey, as was evinced by his thick 
utterance, and irregular steps. The appearance of the visitors was 
such as to promise a financial harvest; and drunk as he was, the 
rumseller bummed around with great celerity to make himself 
agreeable. 

" Fine evening, gentlemen," said he, holding on to every accessi- 
ble object for support. " What will you have, gentlemen ? My 



26ti THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

liquors is all of the best brands and warranted to do their duty every- 
time. What is it gentleman ? " 

" I'll take brandy and water," replied the General. "Esquire, 
what will you have ? Speak out man, and don't be bashful." 

"Whiskey straight," answered the lawyer, eager to imbibe the 
delicious beverage. How many times these patrons of the bar called 
for their respective toddies during the next hour, deponent is unable 
to state ; but when eleven o'clock came, they were both full to over- 
flowing — not drunk beyond the possibility of decent locomotion, for 
that would have been coarse and vulgar for men of their position, 
but they had enough in all conscience to quench their imperative 
thirst, and make them elated and reckless. 

"Now, Esquire," remarked the General, smacking his lips in 
gustatory fashion, "we've a splendid head a steam on, and are 
ready to move out of harbor for another port. Say Mr. What-do- 
you-call-'em, I'm out of change, but here's a ten-dollar bill which 
will answer just as well. Hand out the change, if you please, and 
we'll — we'll — yes, we'll disembogue for the night ! " 

Assisted by the General, who was careful not to be cheated, Mar- 
tin made up the reckoning, and in handing over the change, gave 
out, instead, of a five-dollar bill, as he believed, another bill of the 
denomination of fifty dollars ! His drunkenness was manifestly the 
cause of this blunder. Murdock was not looking on at the time, and 
the mistake, therefore, escaped his attention. Norman was the only 
one who detected it ; and the others, if they had been sober, would 
have noticed the slight, spasmodic start he gave, when, by a private 
mark on it, he recognized the same bill which he had given to Clifford 
a few days before ! Without saying a word by which the mistake 
could be rectified, he thrust the bill into his pocket, wondering how 
in the name of sense it could have gone into the clutches of the 
rumseller. Just before leaving, he said to Martin : 

" By the way, Mr. What-do-you-call-'em, are you acquainted with 
a young man by the name of Clifford, who has been stopping in the 
country near here for the past few weeks?" 

" No, sir — that is — yes, sir, he's been here a few times," said Mar- 
tin, confused at the question. His guilty conscience began to sug- 
gest the probability that these two men were officers, searching se- 
cretly for stolen property. 

"I presume," responded the General inquisitively, "that Clifford 
has been on a grand spree as usual, and has spent a great deal of 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 239 

money with you lately. I shouldn't wonder at all if he has pawned 
his boots, his clothes, and even his watch for whiskey." 

This last sentence was simply accidental, or rather, it was spoken 
without design, for the General had no personal knowledge, nor even 
suspicion, of the theft committed by Martin. The most he could 
have imagined was, that Clifford had either spent his money pro- 
fusely in carousing, or had expended it in obtaining the co-operation 
of Martin and his friends in the conspiracy against young Belgrave. 
The question, however, in reference to the watch, was so direct and 
pointed, that the rumseller shook like Belshazzar; and in his con- 
fusion and intoxication, he would have made some very foolish or 
self-convicting declarations, if two or three dry "dead-beats " had not 
dropped in for their midnight consolation before going to bed. 

" Well, Mr. What-do-you-call-'em, we'll bid you good night, hop- 
ing to see you again in the morning before leaving." 

Thus saying, the General and his friend departed, urging their 
way through the door-way, in spite of the efforts of the "dead-beats" 
to detain them a few minutes longer. They went at once to the 
hotel, where they found the landlord up and ready to receive them. 

"Gentlemen," said he trying to repress a drowsy yawn, "all crea- 
tion, comin' this way to-night, it seems ! two kerridges from the 
South, with six whites in 'em, and two buck-niggers for drivers, driv 
up 'bout sundown ; and now you're come, makin' eleving in all, and 
seven horses, a purty big lot on 'em fur sich a place as this. I've 
had to stow the niggers away in the hay-mow, though they grumbled 
a bit about it. You and your friend, Gineral, must be tucked up in 
number seven, as number eight is chock full of young ladies." 

" That'll answer our purpose just as well for to-night," remarked 
the General politely. Esquire, you may take one of these lights, 
and retire at once, as I wish to speak to the landlord a moment. Go 
up those stairs, and the second room to the right, to which you will 
come, is No. 7." 

Murdock did as he was bidden, after which Norman extemporized 
the following inquiry : 

" How does it happen, landlord, that your house is so crowded 
to-night ? Do you keep a register ? " 

"A what?" replied the landlord in stupified wonder. "I don't 
know that I understand you, Gineral." 

" I suppose not," returned the other. " A register is a hotel-book 
which contains not only the names of all guests stopping at the 



240 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

house, but their places of residence, and the places also to which 
they are going. But let this go for the present. Do you remember 
the names of any of the parties who came here in the carriages?" 

" I think so Gineral. There's a Mr. Spincer, or Spencer and his 
wife, that are goin' on to Hillsboro, in the morning. They will 
leave a young lady to go to Belgraves to-morrow. She's some akin 
to them, I reckon, for she looks like 'em, and has the same name." 

"What! the Spencers and Clara Belgrave here?" exclaimed the 
General, forgetting himself for a moment. "O, I understand it! 
Clara has been invited to the party which comes off to-morrow ; but, 
good God ! what will Leroy do when he meets her ? " 

" What are you talking about, Gineral ? What flusters you so con- 
foundedly ?" 

"O, nothing, nothing ! " replied Norman, quieting himself with an 
effort. But who else is here?" 

" Let me see, Gineral. It ain't Henry Clay, I'm sure ; but it's a 
young chap by the name of Claytins, I think — a fine, frisky feller as 
you ever seed — and with him is two of the dog-ondest purtiest young 
ladies you ever sot your eyes on. One of them is named Juley, and 
tother one named Lucy." 

"Perdition seize them all!" exclaimed the General aghast with 
apprehension. "This is a pretty kettle of fish, truly!" 

"You aint sick, are you Gineral?" inquired the landlord sympa- 
thetically. " You're took with the gripes, I reckon. I have 'em 
often myself, and they make a feller scringe orfully, as I knows. 
Brandy, Gineral, is the best thing out for 'em. I'll fetch it to you in 
a twinlin'." 

" Bring it then, quicky ! " commanded the sufferer, almost gasping 
for breath. A long draught was taken of the soothing prescription, 
after which Norman, who had been thinking hurriedly and deeply, 
spoke thus : 

" Mr. Boggles, here are five dollars I present to you as an indica- 
tion of my respect and esteem. There are two things I desire you to 
do for me. Take a drink first and then hear me out. For reasons 
which I will explain hereafter, I do not wish that any of these parties 
who came to your house in carriages, should know that I and my 
friend are here. He and I will remain in our room until after their 
departure. Do not, for any consideration, speak of us while they are 
in the house. When I shall have gone to bed, I want you to go out 
to the barn, and quietly direct — without the knowledge of the other 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 241 

servants — my servant, Caesar, to place our horses where they will not 
be seen by these parties in the morning ; and instruct him moreover, 
that in case the other darkies know him, to work on them in such 
manner as will induce them to keep silence in reference to our pres- 
ence here. Tell him also to keep out of the way himself, and this he 
can do best by coming to our room. Do you understand me, land- 
lord ? A failure at any one of these points would be damaging to 
me, and mark me well, it would be dollars out of your pocket." 

" You may depend on me, General, every time," returned the land- 
lord, feeling himself growing richer every moment, from his aquaint- 
ance with Southern nabobs. " So, go to bed, and leave the rest to 
me." 

Having repeated the admonition to the landlord to carry out his 
instructions to the letter, General Norman retired in a dismal mood 
— retired to sleep, if practicable, in the same bed with the man whom 
he had attempted to murder, and between whom and himself there 
never could be any other feeling except that of reciprocal distrust and 
hostility. Even the expected coming of Caesar, to lie on the floor, 
was a relief to the former, and if known to him in advance, must 
have been a relief also to the latter. Murdock was awake, and the 
General confided to him the exciting information that had just been 
received. In his heart Murdock was delighted, yet he restrained all 
external display of this feeling. It seemed to him that the girl for 
whose hand he was striving, was now almost his, by right of con- 
quest, or by right rather, of omnipotent strategy. He had seen her 
at Circleville, and had gained a sight of her at Wheeling ; he there- 
fore knew better than her father that he would probably meet her in 
Ohio. 

The landlord was absent at the barn half an hour ; and on his re- 
turn to the house, he was astonished to see Martin, the rum seller, 
standing near the front door, with a look of blank dismay pictured 
out on his blooming face. 

" Bless me, Martin, what's up ? The " dead-beats " hain't cleaned 
you out, have they?" 

" No, they hain't," replied the rum seller; " but I want to ax you 
if a big, portly man, and a short, stumpy one, are now stoppin' at 
your house? If so, I want to see the big one right away." 

" You can't do it," snarled the landlord, for he was getting sleepy. 
The Gineral's gone to bed, and don't want to be bothered with your 
clap-trap and nonsense." 
16 



242 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

" I must see him — indeed I must," pleaded Martin anxiously. Do 
tell me where his room is, and I'll make no noise in going to it. Do 
give me a light, and show me the way." 

" I shan't do it," said the landlord, doggedly. " Now, Dick Mar- 
tin, I'm going to bed and you can see him just as well at ten o'clock 
to-day." 

" Here, Boggles, are five dollars I'll give to you, if you'll let me 
have five minute's talk with him to-night." 

" Well, that alters the case a leetle," returned the landlord, taking 
the bill with a mollified air. Take that light and go up to No. seving ; 
but don't you make no more noise nor a mouse, for the tavern is full 
of ladies — reg'lar sleepin' beauties they are, by gum ! Don't you tell 
the Gineral I sent you up, or I'll pepper that nose o' your'n more'n 
Charlie Belgrave did t'other day ! He'll be mad as blazes anyhow, 
and I'd rather you'd stand the rub nor myself. I can't think for the 
life of me, what you are up to at this time o' night, anyhow. Now, 
Dick Martin, you be keerful for once in your life, or you'll ketch par- 
ticler fits !" 

With a light, Martin ascended the stairs, and proceeded to the des- 
ignated room ; in less than five minutes, the landlord who had been 
waiting for him,' saw him returning with a most dissatisfied and lugu- 
brious countenance. Evidently, there was a flea in his ear which 
buzzed most unmercifully. 

" Well, what's to pay now ?" asked the landlord curiously. 

" The devil's to pay, of course !" growled the rum seller, handing 
the light back to the other and preparing to leave. " He merely told 
me to come to-morrow and banged the door in my face. That's the 
whole story, except that I have lost more money to-night than I'll 
make in the next month by selling brandy cock-tails and whiskey 
punches. Say, Boggles, as it was no go, please let me have that five 
dollar bill back again, won't you ?" 

" No, you don't," replied the landlord, facetiously. " A bargain's 
a bargain, Dick Martin, all over the world. I tried to keep you from 
makin' a wild goose or donkey of yourself, but you wouldn't listen to 
reason. So you may go home and I'll keep the five dollars." 

" You're all a set of swindlers together," muttered the dram seller, 
getting out of the reach of danger before his explosive language 
found utterance. 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 243 



CHAPTER XII. 

Never did a clearer or more beautiful day dawn upon the world 
than the 25th day of July, 1834. So much serenity and glory lin- 
gered in the atmosphere, that a novice in information respecting that 
latitude, could not have imagined that storm, or tempest, or rever- 
berating thunder, or intense coldness, ever disturbed that part of the 
world. But it was hot in the morning, hotter at noon, and hottest at 
3 o'clock P. M. It was a day of incessant perspiration for man and 
beast ; and a day of perpetual annoyance, on account of the myriads 
of flies, and stinging insects crowding the air. 

Immediately after breakfast, which, at a country inn is commonly 
taken very early, Mr. Spencer and his wife started for the county- 
seat, while the other carriage, containing Edward Clayton, Julia Nor- 
man, Clara Belgrave, and Lucy Carrington, moved out from the tav- 
ern towards the residence of Mr. Belgrave. It was a noticeable fea- 
ture of that ride, that Edward, through some mysterious law of affin- 
ity, would gravitate to the side of Clara, and hold her in conversa- 
tion. It was clear that her mind was less pre-occupied than that of 
Julia or Lucy, making her company more pleasant and desirable. 

It was late in the morning when General Norman and Murdock, 
along with the black emperor, Julius Caesar, emerged from No. sev- 
en, and wended their way down stairs. Julius was taken to the 
kitchen, where his appetite was regaled with fluids and solids, and 
the two gentlemen were conducted by Boggles into the dining room. 
The General's appetite was slim, and he was the first to return to the 
office, or bar-room, where he was confronted by the perturbed visage 
of Dick Martin. 

" I'm glad to see you this morning," meekly began the rum seller. 
"A little misunderstake happened at my place last night, that I 
thought you wouldn't mind settin' straight when you heard on't." 



244 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

" What mistake do you mean ?" almost sternly demanded the 
General, taking a seat and cooly glancing at the intruder. 

"In the fust place I want to ax pardon for troublin' you in the 
night," said Martin with great humility ; "but I was so put outbythe 
loss, I couldn't help it. In givin' you, as I thought, a five dollar bill, 
I handed you a fifty, and as that is too great a loss for a poor man 
to bear, I made bold to come to you to have the matter righted." 

"Yes, sir, I understand," responded Norman, evasively. "I did re- 
ceive a bill of that denomination from you, which has my own pri- 
vate mark on it. This bill went from me to Mr. Clifford ; and now, 
sir, I want to know how it came into your possession. Mark you, 
sir, I shall see Mr. Clifford to-day, and then shall know the facts. 
Did he spree this bill out, or did he give it to you for certain private 
services to be rendered by you to him ?" 

Martin knew what these private services meant, and if there 
had been no certainty that this stern man before him would get the 
whole story of the theft from Clifford, it would have been very easy 
to fabricate a plausible falsehood ; but comprehending the circum- 
stances as they were communicated by General Norman, the rum 
seller felt that the loss of the bill must be endured, provided that by 
losing it, he could purchase his own exemption from arrest and pun- 
ishment for grand larceny. 

"Well, keep the bill," said he with great meekness. "I'm sure 
that Mr. Clifford don't want to speak to you, nor to any one else, 
about the manner of his givin' me that bill. So, if you say nothin' 
to him, you may have the bill and welcome. Is it a bargain ?" 

" Yes, sir, it is," replied Norman hypocritically. It was evident to 
him that Clifford had either spent the money in dissipation, or had 
expended it for private services, or it had been taken from him by 
theft. The second supposition was the most natural one, and Nor- 
man was about to alter his tone, and engage in a friendly and confi- 
dential conversation, when Murdock entered the room. 

" I shall meet you again," said Norman aside to the rum seller. 
" If you are at Belgrave's to-night, I shall probably return you this 
bill. So good by for the present." 

As Martin went away, he did not know whether to feel elated or 
depressed by the concluding sentences of the stranger. If the man 
with whom he had been talking, was honorable, and would abstain 
from speaking to Clifford on the delicate topic, he (Martin,) would at 
any rate be saved from a disgraceful exposure, and the fifty dollars 
would very likely revert to his possession. 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 245 

For a long time — longer than we had thought when we took an 
excursion to Virginia — have we been absent from the home of Mr. 
Belgrave, and we now return to it with undisguised pleasure. The 
head of the family has nearly recovered from his temporary illness ; 
and assured of Heaven's pardon for past misdeeds, and of entire 
respite from the Transmitted Curse in the future, he is enjoying a 
conscious serenity, and an elevated happiness, to which he had been 
a stranger all his life. He has found that they who put their trust in 
an arm of flesh, are overcome by every formidable temptation ; but 
they who put their trust in God, shall never be confounded. He 
stands now on a sure foundation, from which the waves of heredi- 
tary habit will never wash him into the whirlpool of ruin. 

On this 25th morning of July, William Belgrave has taken his 
father in a carriage over the farm, to see the thrift and fine manage- 
ment displayed by Charles and his brothers. Clifford is up in his 
room, sick, blue, and miserable. The loss of his money and watch 
still depressed him ; but aside from this, the consciousness of his 
crime against humanity and hospitality, intensified his unhappiness. 
Add to this, too, the want of means and opportunities to quench the 
thirst raging through and through his system, and poisoning his 
entire being, the reader will readily understand that his condition 
was one of unalloyed and unmitigated wretchedness. 

But where is our favorite, Charles ? It is to be presumed he is a 
favorite with our readers, as well as ourself. He is rapidly recover- 
ing from the effects of his accident ; and now, while his father and 
elder brother are ventilating themselves in a free ride over the high- 
ly cultivated farm, while his younger brothers are out at the gate to 
receive the coming visitors, if any should come at that irregular hour, 
Charles was with his mother in her apartment. Bessie is with Dinah, 
and several temporary servants in the kitchen, actively employed in 
doing up a quantity of baking on her own account. It must be remem- 
bered here that Mrs. Belgrave has acquired more than her wonted 
animation of spirits ; and with it has come back to her cheeks a 
healthy glow and bloom, which for long years, has not been visible. 
All this shows internal peace of mind, and we are glad to record this 
glorious change. George suddenly comes in with a report that a 
splendid carriage has just driven up to the gate, from which a young 
gentleman and three young ladies, all of fine appearance, have 
alighted. To this announcement succeeded the entrance of the party 
into the parlor, conducted by John who is waiting on them to the 



246 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

best of his ability, despite the fact that he was confused and con- 
sciously awkward. On going to the parlor, Mrs. Belgrave and 
Charles instantly recognized Lucy, whom they had met at Circle ville 
on a visit to William ; but the others — except Clara who had been 
seen by Mrs. Belgrave many years before in Virginia — were utter 
strangers. It devolved on Lucy, therefore, after the first greeting 
with her friends was over, to introduce her traveling companions. In 
a short time these forms of introduction were completed, and the 
newly arrived party began to feel perfectly at home. 

Hearing an uncommon noise and bustle below stairs, Clifford who 
was entirely ignorant of the arrivals just recorded, resolved to gratify 
his curiosity by going down, and making discoveries. He had taken 
a good deal of care — more from sheer force of habit than anything 
else — to make himself presentable on this gala day ; but we venture 
the statement that no man more joyless than he ever descended those 
stairs. Proceeding to the parlor without pause, and without consid- 
eration, he was full in the midst of the party before he understood 
the situation. It happened that Clara Belgrave, his sister, was not 
just then in the room ; and it happened too that Julia — from the 
knowledge she had gained — was expecting to meet him at his uncle's, 
and to meet him also under circumstances of peculiar dishonor to 
himself. It was not strange then, that in meeting her face to face he 
should display more trepidation than she. Charles, whose suspicions 
have hitherto been mentioned, and whose knowledge of the identity 
of Clifford with Leroy Belgrave was perfect, assumed in this case the 
task of introduction. 

"Miss Carrington," said he, without embarrassment, "permit me 
to introduce to you our friend and guest, Mr. Clifford." 

" I have met the gentleman before at Circleville," she observed, 
bowing to the handsome but dissipated masquerader. 

" Miss Norman," continued Charles, in his most graceful style, 
" permit me to introduce to your better acquaintance, our esteemed 
friend and guest, Mr. Ashton Clifford, of Richmond, Virginia." 

" Happy of your acquaintance, Mr. Clifford," said Julia, command- 
ing her feelings by a strong effort. While Charles was speaking, she 
detected on his face a satirical smile, which made her believe that he 
was the very person to whom she should go, at a proper time, to 
obtain information in regard to the conspiracy against his brother. Ed- 
ward Clayton was the next one to be introduced to the festive dissem- 
bler ; and when this was through, Clifford, who felt his limbs shaking, 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 247 

and his brain whirling with unnatural giddiness, excused himself to 
the company, and tottered, rather than walked, out of the room. As he 
chanced to glance through a front window on his way to the stairs, 
another bitter and overwhelming surprise confronted him. He saw 
his sister Clara, of whose presence he had been totally unaware, lead- 
ing her delighted little cousin Bessie, to and fro in the front yard. 

When he reached his own apartment, and threw himself on the 
bed, his feelings were of an indescribably awful character ! Under 
the government of his own bad heart, and worse counsel, he had 
sown to the wind, and was now reaping to the whirlwind ! What had 
he gained by this long process of dissimulation, but exposure, infa- 
my, and ruin ? He looked through the dismal past, and shuddered ; 
he looked forward to the darker future, and wished that he and his 
evil adviser were at the bottom of the Red Sea, below the possibilities 
of a resurrection. He hated and cursed himself, hated the world 
wherein he lived, and hated the Being by whose fiat he was placed 
on the earth, in the midst of temptation, crime, remorse, and univer- 
sal evil. 

While lying in this forlorn condition, a slight tap at his door start- 
led him from his desolate communings. Rising with an effort, he 
walked immediately to the door, and opened it. There, standing in 
her glorious beauty, but with a countenance of sorrow, was Julia 
Norman, to whom all his deeds of depravity would soon be open. 
Giving her a seat, and taking one himself, he spoke in a subdued and 
penitential voice : 

" I am glad you have come to me in my great sorrow, not I trust, 
to rebuke me for my misdoings, but to sympathize and encourage. 
I cannot tell how it was I so misjudged you; but certain it is, I was 
induced to believe — and one very dear to you led me into this error 
— that you wished me to peril my soul's salvation for a few paltry 
acres of land, and a few miserable ounces of perishing dust ! Don't 
condemn me, Julia, until you hear all my vindication. To make 
this belief stronger, I received a letter from you, which, according to 
my one-sided interpretation of it at the time, not only authorized, 
but urged me to the most decisive steps, irrespective of honor and 
good faith, to recover the lost estate. Your father was driving me 
forward with the declaration, oft repeated, that he would not permit 
his daughter to wed a beggar, and following me to the West, instilled 
into my mind the poison which has wrought my ruin. But after 
I had embarked in the dangerous conspiracy, and had assumed the 



248 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

hated name I now bear, I wrote to you, time after time, informing 
you of what I was doing, and begging you to tell me whether the 
course I had adopted agreed with your desire, but no answer came, 
and I was left in the dark to grope my way down to the infamy in 
which you find me involved. Julia, this is my vindication. Though 
I am a drunkard and a villain, God knows my penitence and 
remorse, and you, Julia, of all women in the world, best know 
whether I am entitled to pity or just denunciation." 

" Leroy," said the maiden tearfully, going to her lover and taking 
him by the hand, "I have traveled hundreds of miles, not to con- 
demn you, but, through God's help, to save you from yourself, and 
from evil counselors. Had you received the many letters I addressed 
to you, which, like yours, were intercepted by some enemy, you 
would have known that I would infinitely prefer an honorable hus- 
band with a beggar's portion, than a false and dishonest one with 
the title and resources of an Emperor. But, Leroy, my woman's 
heart tells me that you have been 'more sinned against than 
sinning ; ' and my woman's heart tells me further, that if I had not 
reached here to-day, some deed of terror would have been commit- 
ted, which would bring despair to many hearts, and final separation 
between you and myself. Now, then, you must tell me all that has 
passed, touching the conspiracy against your cousin, and I pray you 
to keep back nothing, no matter how much the revelation may pain 
me, or wound you, or how much it may wound, or even destroy, the 
fair fame of my father. We must know what the wrong is to its 
fullest extent, before we hope to apply the remedy intelligently. 
Now, dear Leroy, begin at the beginning, and tell it all without reser- 
vation or concealment, and be sure you will have my earnest sympa- 
thy as you proceed." 

Thus invited, Leroy disburdened his soul. The whole dark story, 
from the inception of the conspiracy, with all its appendages and 
associations of folly, rashness, and crime, was recited with wondrous 
eloquence and pathos ; and at its conclusion, the narrator bent his 
face forward on his hands, and wept in strong agony. 

"Thank God! you're saved!" exclaimed the girl, passionately, 
placing her right hand affectionately on the head of the penitent: 
"Yes, saved at the eleventh hour — saved as a brand from the eternal 
burning ! Dear Leroy, there is more joy in Heaven over one sinner 
that repenteth, than over ninety and nine that go not astray. Dry 
your tears, therefore, and be comforted. We have a great work to 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 249 

do before the dawn of the morrow, to save the innocent, and restrain 
the guilty. There are others besides yourself, who are wicked 
enough to carry out this scheme against your cousin, and they will 
do it if they can without your assistance. We must defeat them at 
all hazards ; and in doing so, he — my dear, misguided father — must 
be saved from himself, if salvation be possible. Do you remain 
here, Leroy, for the present; you are too much exhausted to venture 
out. Meantime, I will go and consult with your cousin Charles, for 
he seems to have a shrewdness and intelligence beyond his years, and 
I presume his kindness of heart is as strong as his judgment. Stay 
here, Leroy, until I come or send for you ; and may Heaven's choicest 
blessings he showered on you, to-day, and forevermore." 

When Julia passed out of the room, it seemed to Leroy — as we 
shall henceforth call him — that a ministering angel had left his 
presence — left him, not to the dull agony of despair, but to the inspi- 
ration of renewed hope and courage. He now felt that the dead past 
might bury its dead in a forgotten grave; but the future, so lately 
pictured over with terrible illustrations, was mapped out with sublime 
work, and glorious victories. He resolved, through God's help, to 
achieve a final triumph over self — a triumph so complete over 
Transmitted Appetite, that temptation should never touch him with 
its poisonous breath ; and farther than this, he determined, to dedi- 
cate his life's best work to the righting of wrongs committed by him- 
self, and to the happiness, down to life's end, of the dear girl who 
had rescued him from the flame which was scorching him to death ! 

Having left Leroy to his own meditations, Julia went down to seek 
an interview with Charles, before the arrival of guests would make 
it inconvenient, and perhaps, impossible. For some reason, hardly 
apparent to herself, she sought him in preference, just then, to his 
elder brother, whom she had not yet seen. Leroy had told her, in their 
recent conversation, which we have not reported in full, that Charles, 
notwithstanding his suspicions and manifest dislike of his cousin, was 
a more eligible person, to consult, than William, because of these 
very suspicions, and because, too — and we do not wish to depreciate 
the wisdom of his brother — of his practical sagacity. It happened 
opportunely, that Julia found him alone, in a part of the house where 
there was no immediate interruption. There were two circumstances 
of which the young lady was ignorant. One was, the nature and 
extent of Charles's knowledge of his cousin's misdeeds, and the 
other was, the prejudice which had been excited in his mind against 



250 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

Julia herself, by the language of her father, over heard at the hotel. 
He had been led to believe, from this cause, she was selfish and 
heartless, goading her lover, for the sake of dishonest wealth, on to 
wickedness and ruin ; but when on that day, he had looked for the 
first time, into her handsome, frank, and truthful countenance, his 
prejudices began to give way like a cloud before the approaching 
sun. Surely, that radiant brow, and those pure and expressive eyes, 
were not exponents of a corrupt and selfish nature. He could trust 
her, in part at least, in spite of the slanderous innuendoes of her 
parent. 

"If you are not engaged at present," said she, bravely opening 
the discussion, "I would be pleased to speak with you a few min- 
utes." 

" I am at your pleasure, Miss Norman," replied the young man in 
his most courtly style, offering her a seat, which she accepted. 

"I will then briefly state my object. I have come here from my 
home in Virginia, on a peculiar, but a momentous mission — nothing 
less than to save two men, in whose fate I am greatly interested, from 
the commission of an awful crime which they designed to consum- 
mate. I shall be plain and explicit, and trust in return, you will be 
equally ingenuous. This is no time, I assure you, to withhold reve- 
lations which ought to be made. Your own brother, William, has 
been selected as the victim of a terrible conspiracy, to defraud him 
of his rights, and ruin his soul ! One of the chief actors in this pro- 
posed crime, is a young man who has been, for weeks, a guest at 
your house, and the other, I deeply regret to say, is my own father, 
whom we will, if possible, save from himself, before it be too late. 
Now, my friend, as I have been thus frank, and as I have reason to 
believe, that you, more than any other member of this household, are 
acquainted with the facts to which I refer, I wish you to tell me, with- 
out reserve, all you know in regard to this conspiracy. I want this 
knowledge, and you want mine, to help us comprehend, and carry 
out, the means by which your brother shall be saved, and by which 
these other men shall be kept from committing an act of disgrace 
and perfidy." 

The pervading earnestness with which she spoke, amply proved 
her sincerity. Would this high-souled, and dauntless girl, have 
criminated her father, unless she had sought by this, his ultimate good, 
and the good also, of Charles's brother? His heart responded, no; 
and springing at once from the midst of his dark" suspicions, to the 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 251 

summit of a genuine faith in the nobility and grandeur of her pur- 
pose in coming to the West, Charles revealed the whole story of 
wrong and faithlessness, as it had been imparted by recent events, 
leaving nothing unsaid which could be made to bear on the compli- 
cated subject. Julia listened with profound attention, even holding 
her breath at intervals, to catch the dismal sentences as they fell 
from his lips. His concluding remarks were as follows : 

" It was decided, as I understood it at the hotel, that your father 
was to be present to-night, at the party, at which time it was agreed 
that my brother should be inveigled to some convenient place, and 
either drugged by force with liquor, or be induced to drink it by 
some infernal stratagem. All that we shall be able to do at that 
time, will be to watch suspicious circumstances, and meet them as 
we may. Cousin as he is, the young man up stairs who has shown 
so much ingratitude to his friends, must be imformed by some one 
to-day, that his villainies are known, and he must take himself out of 
the country very speedily, if he wishes to escape merited punishment." 

"There you are wrong, my friend," interposed Julia, her cheeks 
flooded with crimson. "I have just come away from an interview 
with your cousin. You will remember he has been driven to his 
mad course by the mistaken belief that I — his particular friend — was 
urging him, in the strongest manner, to do just as he has done. 
Besides this, another man whose influence was very powerful, has 
been using all possible efforts to induce him to join this conspiracy, 
and become the chief actor in it. But there is no danger now to 
fear from your cousin. He is deeply penitent, and is extremely 
anxious to make all proper atonement for his sins. You and I are, 
perhaps, the chosen instruments of Heaven, to save him from the 
consequences of his acts, and redeem him from this thralldom of 
crime. Hereafter — and I speak what I know — you may trust him 
with implicit confidence." 

" I fully agree with you, Miss Norman," responded Charles, for the 
first time understanding the relation which existed between Leroy 
and Julia. " I am sorry I spoke so rashly about him. He has many 
noble traits, misguided as he is, and I will gladly help you to do any 
thing you may suggest, to bring him back from his false and unnat- 
ural position. My brother William, does not as yet know that a 
conspiracy has been formed against him ; and when he returns with 
father, we will seek the earliest opportunity to enlighten him. This 
duty has already been put off too long." 



252 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

After conversing a little while longer on matters of vital interest, 
the two separated, to meet again as occasion demanded. It was now 
noon, and Mr. Belgrave and son had returned from their excursion 
over the farm. The latter was overjoyed to meet Lucy, whom he 
was not expecting, and the other visitors received from him a cordial 
greeting. No one who looked on his placid and unruffled brow, 
indicating an utter absence of distrust or suspicion, could have 
imagined he was standing on the crust of a smouldering volcano, 
liable in a very short time, to break through under his feet, and pre- 
cipitate him into hopeless ruin ! As other guests began to arrive 
very early in the afternoon, and as there was much inevitable bustle 
and confusion about the house, there was no fitting opportunity dur- 
ing the day to communicate to him a knowledge of the conspiracy. 
In fact, it was not thought advisable to do so, until the hour came 
for the consumation of his enemies's schemes, as there were friends 
enough to protect his interests in the amplest manner, without dis- 
turbing him, before the time, with painful disclosures. 

When evening set in, the house was crowded. No such party, for 
size and brilliancy, embracing some of the most prominent families 
in that section, had ever convened in the rural districts of Highland 
county. It might have been noticed — though, perhaps, it was not, 
on account of the great throng — that about nine o'clock, two 
strangers, one of whom was a large, portly man, and the other of 
smaller size, mingled, in an unobtrusive way, with the assemblage, 
evidently attracting as little attention as circumstances would permit. 

From the description as given, our readers have already recog- 
nized in the two strangers, General Norman and Samuel Murdock. 
Though they had been drinking very freely, they were not percepti- 
bly under the influence of liquor. The General and his companion 
had disguised themselves as well as they were able ; and the former 
was very anxious to avoid the presence and recognition of his 
daughter. Chancing to find George in one of the rooms, he ingeni- 
ously obtained from the boy such information as he desired in refer- 
ence to Clifford. 

" He's been sick all day," said George, unsuspiciously. " He's in 
his room up stairs, I guess he's alone, too, just now." 

"Well, my boy," returned the General, "I wish to see him a few 
moments. Please, show me up to his apartment. 

George complied with this request; and a minute later, General 
Norman and Leroy were face to face, and alone, in the same chamber. 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 253 

"This sickness of yours, sir," commenced the former in a chiding 
tone, and at the same time taking a seat, " is very unfortunate. Our 
whole scheme, involving such momentous issues, will all end in 
smoke, unless you bestir yourself, and go to work with a will. I 
have found out enough at the village, to know that some of your 
plans were well laid, promising success ; and I have reason to know, 
too, that men whom you have employed in this business, are now in 
this house, waiting to do your bidding. Come, unfold your plans, 
and let us push them to execution." 

" I have no plans to unfold, General Norman," replied Leroy, col- 
lecting himself for the struggle. "A week ago, or a month ago, 
when I believed, through your misrepresentations, that Julia was 
urging me to sell my soul for money, I was willing even to dare this 
sacrifice for her sake. Now that I know she is utterly and irrevoca- 
bly opposed to any act of dishonor, committed by myself or any one 
else, I have determined to do what ought to have been done at first, 
that is, wash my hands of this wretched conspiracy, beg forgive- 
ness of those whom I have injured, and try hereafter, through 
Heaven's help, to live a life of spotless integrity." 

"Have you gone stark mad, sir?" exclaimed the General in a 
passion. " So, then, all these journeys from Virginia to Ohio, and 
all this bill of expense, coming out of my own pocket, and this great 
estate, worth a hundred thousand dollars, must go for naught, 
because the nonsense of a silly girl is heeded, instead of the declar- 
ations of practical men. I repeat, sir, are you mad ?" 

"No, sir, I am not," replied Leroy, with much dignity; "But I 
mean to say, in the most emphatic and irreversible manner, that 
from this night, I shall not only have nothing to do with this foul 
wrong against my kinsman, but I shall do all in my power to secure to 
him his ultimate rights. There is no use General, to discuss this sub- 
ject farther. You cannot and shall not, move me from this position! " 

" I swear then," exclaimed the General, in a rage, yet speaking 
in a suppressed tone, "that this fond notion of yours to wed my 
daughter, shall be terribly disappointed. I shall move every earthly 
agency, to defeat you at this point ; and besides this, beggar as you 
are, and will be to the end, I shall pursue you through the world, to 
recover the sums of money, which I have loaned to you, and which 
you have spent in idleness and drunkenness. Why, sir, the last fifty 
dollar bill I paid you, I found last night in the hands of the saloon 
keeper at the village." 



254 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

"Let me say, General, in my defense," said Leroy, glad to hear 
from his lost property, " that the bill to which you refer, and the gold 
watch which was once my mother's, were stolen from me in that 
saloon, a few nights since. As to the money, let it go, for it was 
wrongfully acquired ; but I am glad you have put me on the track to 
recover the only memorial I had of my mother in the world." 

This allusion to his mother, together with the dejected state of his 
mind produced by ill- health and conscious wrong-doing, brought 
tears to the young man's eyes. 

" General," said he, tremulously, " I beseech you to leave me to 
my own wretchedness ; but as you go, remember that this conspiracy 
is already known to other parties. There are vigilant eyes watching 
every suspicious movement ; and if you take a step farther in this 
scheme of outrage and injustice, you will be arrested, and made to 
answer for your crimes." 

"What, sir, have you been blabbing our secrets?" inquired the 
General, rising, and confronting Leroy with a look of remorseless 
passion. "What hinders me now from taking this pistol, and 
blowing out your cowardly brains ? By the God who made me, I'll 
do it ! " 

Carried away by an excess of tumultuous and irrational rage, the 
General had drawn his pistol, and was in the act of turning its muz- 
zle full at the head of Leroy, when the door silently opened, and the 
figure of a woman — that of Julia Norman — followed by Charles 
Belgrave, entered the apartment. The murderous intention of the 
General, was frustrated ; and taking one look of concentrated malice 
at the two young men, and his daughter, he put up the weapon, 
grasped his hat which lay on a stand, and stalked toward the door. 

" O, father, father ! do not go thus ! " exclaimed the girl, trying to 
hold him back. " I beseech you to stop, for I have much to say to 
you." 

"Off, girl, and let me alone!" said he with increasing fury, as he 
threw off the pressure of her hand, left the room, and walked toward 
the head of the stairs. Julia followed with affectionate persistency, 
and was about to reach him again, when Murdock stepped from an 
obscure corner, where he had been probably acting the spy, and 
joined the General in descending the stairs. The sight of this man 
made Julia recoil with terror. Returning to Leroy's apartment, she 
sank down in a chair, and gave way to a torrent of tears. 

Meanwhile Charles went down to the lower part of the house, to 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 255 

watch the movements of the conspirators. Passing through the 
rooms, and through gay and thronging groups, he became con- 
vinced that the two men whom he had seen above stairs, were no 
longer visible. Seeing for a moment to the safety of William, who 
was just then conversing with Lucy, in his mother's apartment, he 
passed out to the front yard, where in the dusky obscurity, he saw 
two men, one of whom he knew to be Norman, mounting their horses 
in a quick, nervous way, which betokened great haste, or trepida- 
tion. They moved off in the direction of the village, and were soon 
lost in the shadows of night. On going back to the house, the atten- 
tion of Charles was directed to a group of three or four men, who 
were standing under the poplar tree, engaged in a low, inaudible 
conversation, and looking out, every little while, toward the house, 
as though they were expecting some friend or confederate to join 
them from that quarter. Unperceived, Charles approached them, 
and was not surprised at all, to identify Timothy Snap, Morgan, and 
Dick Martin, the saloon keeper. 

The last mentioned individual had — 'Unknown to Charles — a double 
motive in making his appearance at that hour and place. He 
expected to meet General Norman, and either regain possession of 
the stolen bill, or find out whether there was any reason to apprehend 
an arrest for his crime. Having seen the General depart in great 
haste, in company with another, he was greatly puzzled to know the 
meaning of this strange act. At length he observed pettishly, so as 
to be heard by the young listener : 

" It's no use, men, to be dancin' attendance any furder. The young 
feller what wanted us to help in his affairs, don't come to time. The 
whole consarn is bursted up, and we may as well slope to town, 
before we have any more trouble." 

At that moment Charles made himself voluntarily visible, at which 
Martin being apprehensive of danger, took himself off toward his 
horse, followed in a few seconds by his accomplices. Charles took a 
long breath of relief, mentally observing : 

" Thank God ! We are reaching the end of this woful drama of 
mischief. The going away of that old misguided man, and those 
drunken wretches who came here on an errand of crime, is proof 
that the day of sorrow is passing away. My brother is saved, and 
saved, too, without knowing anything about the dark cloud hovering 
over his destiny." 

Charles went into the house ; and after remaining a few minutes 



256 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

in conversation with friends, he passed upstairs to the room. Julia 
was still there, pale and agitated, yet striving to acquire a feeling of 
collectedness and resignation. The summary departure of her father, 
and the circumstances connected with it, filled her mind with gloomy 
forebodings. She had overheard some of the concluding remarks 
made by Leroy and her father ; and after that, when she saw Mur- 
dock — the man of all men on earth for whom she felt the greatest 
scorn and loathing — go off with her father in an intimate and confi- 
dential manner, she trembled in view of the miserable fate which 
seemed to be reserved for her. 

" Charles," said Leroy, proffering the young man a seat, " I have 
an explanatton of vital importance to make to you and to your broth- 
er William. When the guests have gone away — and I presume most 
of them will go in a short time — you will confer a great favor by 
bringing your brother to this chamber, where, to him and to yourself, 
as well as to Miss Norman, I will make a confession which ought to 
have been made long ago." 

" I suppose," said Julia, by way of suggestion, "that the gentleman 
would have no objection to the presence of my friend Lucy at the time 
referred to ?" 

"None in the least," replied Leroy. "The confession which I 
have to make, shall be made in full and without reserve, to all per- 
sons whom I have injured in thought or deed. Until now, I have 
felt so humiliated by my misconduct that I have not wished even to 
see my sister, although she has been in the same house with me for 
hours, as I have been informed. Let her come, too, by all means, 
for I can always trust her sisterly love and magnanimity." 

Charles went back to the lower apartments, to look after his broth- 
er's interest, and execute the bidding of Leroy when the proper mo- 
ment arrived. We should not omit to state here, that neither Charles 
nor Julia, for reasons of the most delicate nature, had informed Clara 
Belgrave that her brother was under the same roof with herself. He 
had been confined to his room since ten o'clock in the morning, and 
they did not wish to shock his sister prematurely by stating the facts 
involved in his present condition. Clara had heard incidentally of a 
young man by the name of Clifford, but his identity with Leroy she 
had not suspected. 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 257 



CHAPTER XIII. 

When General Norman left the house to return to the village, his 
breast was the theatre of stormy emotions. He was conscious the 
fates were against him, and he had lost everything by this final cast 
of the die. He was a foiled and ruined strategist, whose arts, pro- 
jected by himself for the destruction of others, had re-acted ruinously 
on their author ; and to aggravate his misery in a ten-fold degree, 
Murdock was following him like a shadow, dogging his footsteps from 
hour to hour, to wring from him the fulfillment of a cowardly prom- 
ise, or hand him over to the officers of the law, and the retributions 
of justice. 

With these harrowing feelings, General Norman pursued his way 
at a rapid pace, having no definite object in the future, after joining 
his servant — who he left at the hotel — except, to escape in some way 
from the meshes of the lawyer, By his side rode Murdock, grave, 
suspicious, and taciturn, and depending alone on the influence which 
he had acquired over the General for the tenure which would ulti- 
mately give him the hand of Julia in marriage. 

That side of Painter's hill next to the residence of Mr. Belgrave, is 
not precipitous like it is on the opposite declivity. The road for more 
than a quarter of a mile made a gradual ascent, both sides of which 
were lined with gigantic oaks, whose topmost branches seemed 
almost to meet in an arch overhead. During the night — and espe- 
cially in a night like this — the road was very gloomy and uninviting, 
except to men of like character. Having reached this part of the 
route, the General was riding very rapidly, a few feet in advance of 
his companion, when his horse stumbled violently over some ob- 
struction, and fell with a crash in the road, The rider was thrown 
forward with fearful force, striking with his head against a rock, half 
imbeded in the earth. 

Alarmed beyond measure at this unexpected catastrophe, Murdock 
dismounted, and went immediately to the assistance of his compan- 
17 



258 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

ion. As he did so, the horse on which the General had been riding, 
scrambled to his feet, and rushed with frightened speed over the 
body of his master. A moment more, and his hoofs were heard ring- 
ing on the hard earth, off in the direction of the village. General 
Norman lay without sense or motion, disfigured with terrible wounds, 
and covered with blood. Murdock had every reason in the world to 
deprecate this disaster, for the death of the father, he knew, would 
forever liberate the daughter from the chains which bound her. As 
well as he could in the darkness, after fastening his horse, he applied 
himself to the relief of the sufferer, if indeed he were still within the 
realm of suffering. 

The body was taken to the side of the road, where the grass was 
growing in luxuriance, forming a kind of natural couch. Murdock 
then instituted an examination into the wounds, so far as his sense of 
touch could guide him. There was no perceptible pulsation at the 
wrist, and after a minute's investigation the lawyer's suspense termina- 
ted in the conviction that the General was dead — dead past all 
surgery ! 

" Good God !" exclaimed the lawyer, beginning to take in the con- 
sequences of the tragedy, " he's dead and she's released from all ob- 
ligation. His death is the worst misfortune to me that could possi- 
bly happen ; for through it I've lost her, and to lose her is to lose 
beauty, wealth, power — all that I courted most on earth. But I can't 
help it, and while I am mourning over this calamity I may be seen, 
and arrested for his supposed murder. I shall, therefore, take what- 
ever valuables he may have on his person, as a recompense, in part, 
for what he stole from me. I then shall proceed to town and give 
the alarm, if it suits me to do so." 

What ensued would never have occurred, if the lawyer had not 
been fully satisfied that death had done its work, surely and irrevo- 
cably. Stooping down, he systematically pillaged the pockets of the 
General, taking out a well-filled pocket-book, and even a heavy gold 
watch, for which its owner had paid a large sum. While in this hon- 
orable occupation, and while he was absorbed in the apparent rich- 
ness of the spoils he had won, he was driven into a mortal panic by 
the sudden appearance of three men, who pounced on him without 
mercy and arrested him in the soulless act of rifling the dead. 

We have hitherto stated that Timothy Snap, and his two confed- 
erates, left the scene of the party for their home, not long after the 
departure of Norman. Riding on at great speed, they arrived at the 
base of the hill at the moment when the accident to Norman occur- 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 259 

red. They heard the fall of the horse, and other sounds attending 
it, which indicated some extraordinary event, the nature of which, on 
account of the darkness, they could not readily comprehend. Two 
of these men, as the reader knows, were officers, experienced in the 
ways of secresy and mystery ; and presuming that either a crime or 
an accident had taken place — and if the former they must move with 
great caution — they decided to dismount, hitch their horses, and all 
three proceed in silence to the scene of mystery. Having reached a 
good place for observation, they saw enough, in spite of the dark- 
ness, to convince them that the stranger who was lingering over the 
body of the General, was conclusively a robber, if not a murderer, 
and very likely, both. 

Murdock was at first stupefied, but coming out of this condition, 
he earnestly protested his innocence, and demanded to be set at 
liberty. 

" No you don't," exclaimed Snap, with a victorious chuckle, hold- 
ing on to his prisoner with a deadly grip, " you can't come that sort 
of giraffe over old hands like us. Didn't we see you drag this man 
out here, and pick his pockets like any other thief?" 

"I can explain all that," replied Murdock, with a lawyer's assur- 
ance. " This man lying here was my particular friend. By an acci- 
dental fall and stumble of his horse, he was killed. It was an office 
of friendship, to take him away from the road, where he was liable 
to be trodden under foot by passing horses ; and as I was going to 
town to give the alarm, and obtain assistance, it was my duty, as I 
thought, to take whatever he had on his person for safe keeping, as 
it would not have been prudent to leave the body with these valua- 
bles on it." 

This was an ingenious, and half truthful plea, but it had no effect 
on Snap and his myrmidons, for they had heard enough of his solil- 
oquy to ruin the best plea ever made. Martin, by this time, had 
recognized the General and Murdock, the latter by his voice, and the 
former by personal association ; and he was deciding how to obtain 
re-possession of the fifty dollar bill, now in Murdock's keeping, when 
a movement, followed by a well-defined groan, from the supposed 
corpse, startled all listeners. A few moments of breathless silence 
passed away, at the end of which the sufferer now restored to anima- 
tion, began to mutter like a man in his sleep. 

" It's very dark here. I think — yes — I think I shall run off, and 
cheat that rascal, Murdock, at the last. O, mv God ! what's the 



260 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

matter with me ! I want to go — yes — I want to go to my daughter at 
Mr. Belgrave's." 

" Do you hear that, gentlemen?" inquired Murdock, ignoring the 
General's personal allusion to himself. " This is my friend, General 
Norman, and he will tell you, when he comes to himself, whether I 
am a thief, as you suppose, or a gentleman of honor. He wants to 
go to his daughter, at Mr. Belgrave's, and we must take him." 

Snap's opinion of the prisoner underwent a slight change. He 
began to entertain some belief in his statements, knowing well that, if 
the General desired it, he could fully establish his friend's innocence. 
While preparing a rough litter — which could not have been done if 
Snap had not always carried the ancient style of matches with him 
wherewith to provide a light — a man mounted on one horse, and 
leading another, came upon the scene. A crackling fire was blazing 
near the road, which revealed the ebony features of Julius Csesar, 
Norman's servant, who was frightened into a hunt for his master, by 
the return of the riderless horse. With five strong men, to assist, it 
required a comparatively brief time to convey the dying man to his 
destination. It would have been accomplished sooner, if the party 
had not been encumbered with the care of so many horses. 

The last of the guests had departed in an opposite direction, and 
John was standing out at the gate, when the litter which bore the 
General arrived. It was, perhaps, a strange desire on the part of 
the wounded man, to be taken to the home of the gentleman and 
lady whom he had hated with unquenchable ferocity, and whose 
presence and recognition he had avoided two hours before. This 
desire, however, may have been caused by a premonition of his own 
death, and by a wish to be with his daughter in the parting moment. 

With his customary assurance, Murdock informed John of. the acci- 
dent, and bade him go into the house, and have the tidings imparted 
to Julia as gently as possible. The boy obeyed, while the party 
remained outside to await the signal of admission. They had not 
long to wait, for the door opened, and a bowed and broken figure, 
supported by Leroy Belgrave, and followed by Mr. Belgrave and 
William, passed out into the yard. A little while before, Caesar had 
been dispatched in all haste to the village for the physician. The 
poor fellow had been stricken with woe at this calamity to his master ; 
and all the way from Painter's hill to, the point from which he was 
sent back, he was pouring out his African plaints in a pitiable and 
heart-broken manner. 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 261 

" O, massa, massa ! You're gwine to die, is you, an' leab ole Cae- 
sar to cry fo' ye all de days ob him life ? O, massa ! my heart's mos' 
broke, sure 'nough ; an' poor Miss Julia, how will she done b'ar all 
dis heap o' 'fliction ?" 

At the time when the litter bearers approached the house, the 
extraordinary confession of Leroy Belgrave to his Cousins, William 
and Charles, delivered in the presence of the three young ladies, had 
reached its conclusion ; and William, with his usual magnanimity, 
had gone up to the penitent with extended hands, saying : 

" My dear cousin, I fully and freely forgive you for all the wrong 
you have intended or done against me, as I hope God will forgive 
me, and find me blameless at the Judgment seat ! This should not 
be regarded as a time of lamentation and mourning, but as an hour 
of signal victory — an hour in which true penitence asks for pardon, 
and God approves the noble act ! " 

" I don't believe in half-way measures," said Leroy, rising, and 
speaking with intense and thrilling energy. " I thank you, cousin, 
for the generous forgiveness you have accorded to a guilty relative. 
The confession I have made involves but a part o£ what I wish to 
say. The appetite for strong drink, or for stimulating beverages of 
every kind, with which I have been cursed for years by virtue of my 
heirship to a line of drunkards, I place from this night henceforth 
under my feet, solemnly pledging in your presence, my friends, and 
in the presence of God and His ministrant angels, to abstain forever 
from the use as a beverage, of all intoxicating agents ! God help me 
to keep my vow ! " 

" Amen ! " came responsively from the lips and hearts of all pres- 
ent. After a brief pause, in which strong emotion was predominant, 
William spoke thus, with great feeling : 

" I have always thought, dear cousin, that great injustice was done 
you by the terms of your father's Will. You have given one pledge ; 
and I will present another : If God in his Providence shall see fit to 
bestow on me the large property devised by that Will, you, my cousin, 
shall then understand that liberality and justice are strong elements 
in the religion which I pray my life shall illustrate to the day of my 
death!" 

At this point, when Clara was standing beside her brother, her 
hand clasped in his, and when the spirit of love and reconciliation 
pervaded all hearts in that little group, the thunderbolt fell with 
crushing force on the heart of Julia ! Edward Clayton, who had 



262 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

tarried below in company with the elder Belgraves, entered the room. 
Taking Julia aside, he delicately communicated to her the sad intel- 
ligence with which he had been intrusted. He was indeed a mes- 
senger of evil tidings. We shall not attempt to recount the awfully 
painful meeting betwe'en father and daughter — so totally unexpected 
by both, and so terrific in its gloomy associations. The unfortunate 
man was carried into an accessible chamber, and laid on a bed. 
It was then discovered by examination, that his face was not marred, 
but a frightful wound had been inflicted on the side of his head, from 
which the blood was oozing in a sluggish current. The iron hoofs 
of the horse in riding him down, and trampling him in the dust, 
had given him injuries fearful in character. 

All that kindness and affection could do for him, was done with 
promptitude and zeal. Light feet went constantly to and fro on errands 
of mercy, and lights flashed at intervals from every apartment. The 
physician, or surgeon, soon came, and there was an ominous gloom 
on his brow, when he had finished his examination. There was 
then no hope ! It was strange, however, that, in spite of the formid- 
able wound on. his head, which resembled in appearance and loca- 
tion, the worst one he himself had inflicted on Murdock at Leesburg, 
the mind of the General, except an occasional lapse into brief deli- 
rium, was as well poised on its centre as before the accident. 

'■ Doctor," said he, scanning the features of my father, who was 
the village surgeon, " I perceive you have no hope in my case. Tell 
me honestly how long you expect me to survive ? " 

"Sir," replied my father, whose frankness was sometimes too de- 
monstrative, "you may live till morning; but you may die in an 
hour. What you have to do, I pray you let it be done quickly !" 

" O, my God ! so soon as that ?" groaned the sufferer in despair ; 
rallying his broken courage, he said sternly : 

" If Murdock be in the house, let him be sent here immediately." 

The lawyer, accompanied by Snap and Morgan, who still had their 
prisoner in custody, entered the chamber. Having misunderstood 
the command which brought him to the bedside of the General, and 
having an uneasy conscience, Murdock began to display the watch 
and pocket-book he had stolen, remarking, as he did so : 

" General, here are the effects which I took from your person in 
the forest, to save you from being robbed while I should be absent, 
seeking for assistance. These men, you perceive, have arrested me 
on a charge of theft. I shall hand over these valuables to your 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 263 

daughter here ; and meantime you will acquit me of all intent to rob 
you." 

*• I have not sent for you, Murdock," answered the General, as 
Julia, with a shudder, received the deposit, "to discuss your motives 
in taking these articles. These men have my authority to set you at 
liberty. I once wronged you, deeply and dreadfully ; and you, in 
return, have done outrage to all things noble and pure, by attempt- 
ing to buy up, in perpetual slavery, the soul and body of my daugh- 
ter. Thus stands the account between us, as I have balanced it in 
this final hour. Officers, you are dismissed. Murdock, you are my 
prisoner now. Take that seat near the foot of the bed and wait the 
end of the drama. Julia, see that these officers are paid, and then 
bring Leroy to me." 

These consecutive orders were quietly obeyed, during which Mar- 
tin dropped in as a participant in the reward. General Norman took 
no notice of him until Leroy had made his appearance, entering with 
Julia. 

"My son," said the General, speaking to young Belgrave, "here 
is the scoundrel who stole your money and your mother's watch. 
See that you get back the memorial — the other is in my pocket-book, 
if that also has not been despoiled." 

Martin quivered like the aspen leaf, at this accusation, which 
seemed to come from the borders of the grave ; and losing all pres- 
ence of mind, he drew out the watch from its hiding place on his 
person, handed it to its owner, and begged piteously to be saved 
from arrest. The craven request was granted for the present at 
least, and he joined his companions on the outside of the house. 
At this time, it was evident that the General was failing rapidly. 
Leroy and Julia stood in mute sorrow at the head of the bed, while 
Murdock sat, in speechless jealousy at the foot. In the back-ground 
nearer the door, were Mr. and Mrs. Belgrave, William and Lucy, 
Edward and Clara, and Charles. The physician, who was also a 
minister, sat near the bed. The presence of the angel of death was 
felt in that chamber of gloom. The General threw his right hand 
outward, and placed the hand of Leroy in that of Julia, and said 
affectionately, but indistinctly : 

"My children, be happy. Forgive me the great wrongs I have 
committed; and may the parents of this household, and their son, 
whom I have injured, look forgivingly on the face of death. Mur- 
dock, behold the result of mutual wickedness. I am dying, and you 



264 THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 

are foiled, baffled and defeated. Julia, give him back the money 
and note which you will find in the safe. As you value your peace, 
destroy that — that — that forged — O God! " 

The sentence was never completed, for the sufferer sank back 
with a groan, and expired. Unable to bear the scene, and impelled 
by his intense jealousy, and sense of utter defeat, Murdock rushed 
from the house, threw himself on his horse, and fled away in the 
darkness. From that eventful night, the fate of this bad man has 
been involved in perplexing uncertainty. Whether he was murdered 
for booty on his way to town by the villains who had arrested him, 
and his body hidden away in the forest, or whether he voluntarily 
departed to new scenes and new associations, we do not know ; but 
certain it is he never returned to Leesburg, and never reclaimed, by 
letter or otherwise, his property in the library safe. 

The body of General Norman was conveyed for burial to his late 
home in Virginia, accompanied by Leroy and Julia, and the other 
members of the original party. His funeral was largely attended ; 
and of the multitudes present, there was but one, and that one his 
daughter, who had a full comprehension of his real character and his 
interior life. The inscription on his monument spoke of virtues he 
never possessed, and the credulous world believed it. 

William Belgrave passed the ordeal triumphantly to which he had 
been subjected. The grand estate came at the end of his probation, 
and the very day in which at Leesburg, the trustees decided in his 
favor, he made good his pledge to Leroy; but that young man, rich 
in prospect, promptly but very kindly, refused to share an inheri- 
tance, which his own conduct had forfeited, and of which his father 
had deemed him unworthy. A short time after this event, and a 
year after the death of the General, Leroy was united in marriage to 
Julia Norman ; and to this day, although forty years have come and 
gone, he has never taken the unhallowed beverage to his lips. 
Another wedding came off at the same time and place, wherein 
Edward Clayton and Clara Belgrave were central figures ; and to 
these happy weddings, William Belgrave and his wife, late Lucy 
Carrington, along with William's father and mother, and the 
sprightly little Bessie, and our excellent friend Charles, were invited 
and welcome guests. 

And now, dear reader, having stated, for the purpose of pointing 
our moral, that the Transmitted Curse has never desolated the hearts 
and lives of any member of these Belgrave families, through forty 



THE TRANSMITTED CURSE. 265 

years of accumulated temptations ; and having stated the additional 
fact, that fathers who yield to the control of stimulating poisons, not 
only dig a pit for themselves, but a wider and deeper one into which, 
through coming generations, their posterity shall be hurled, without 
hope of ultimate deliverance or salvation — we bid you an affect- 
ionate farewell. 



NOV 7 f902 



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